"Sister Josephine! You! Is it indeed you! Oh, how I thank Heaven!" fervently exclaimed the fugitive.
"Mademoiselle Laiveesong! You here! My child! And alone! But how is that possible?" cried the good sister in amazement.
Before Salome could answer the guard opened the door with a party of passengers at his back. But seeing the compartment already well filled by the three Sisters of Mercy and another lady, he closed the door again and passed down the platform to find places for his party elsewhere.
The incident was little noticed by Salome at the time, although it was destined to have a serious effect upon her after fate.
In a few minutes the train started.
"My dear child," recommenced Sister Josephine, as soon as the train was well under way—"my dear child, how is it possible that I find you here, alone on the train at midnight! Were you going on to Paris, and alone? Was any one to meet you there?"
"Dear, good Sister Josephine, ask me no questions yet. I am ill—really and truly ill!" sighed Salome.
"Ah! I see you are, my dear child. Ill and alone on the night train! Holy Virgin preserve us!" said the sister, devoutly crossing herself.
"Ask me no questions yet, dear sister, because I cannot answer them. But take me with you wherever you go, for wherever that may be, there will be peace and rest and safety, I know! Say, will you take me with you, good Sister Josephine?" pleaded Salome.
"Ah! surely we will, my child. With much joy we will. We—(Sister Francoise and Sister Felecitie—Mademoiselle Laiveesong,)" said Sister Josephine, stopping to introduce her companions to each other.