Saidee Isaacs was waiting behind the hay-mow. To her, Fay handed the package of sandwiches.
“I know the way to the railroad station,� he said. “We’ll eat as we walk. We can get something to drink in the canal or a brook. It’s pot luck, Saidee, till we reach civilization.�
They crossed the canal by a narrow bridge and descended to the eastern bank. A white road showed which struck inland through the mist. Barns and windmills loomed over the top of well-kept hedges. A wagon passed which was drawn by oxen. The sleepy driver turned and watched the unusual vision that had attracted him.
Suddenly Fay stopped and stared at the girl. A light shone ahead. A whistle had sounded. A roar was in the air of a train streaking through the night.
“I think we can get a train north from there,� Fay said, pointing toward the light. “We’ll go to Delfzijl, at the mouth of the Ems, and from there we’ll get a boat to Stavanger or some port in Norway.�
She glanced back, then turned toward him.
“I’ll get a train south,� she said. “There is no use arguing. My mind is set!�
Fay smiled and hooked his right arm within the cove of her own. “You’re coming with me, Saidee,â€� he commanded. “You’re coming for a good reason, too. That sleep did me a world of good. You were right about those glasses. I shouldn’t have thrown them into the sea. There’s something in them—after all.â€�
“What do you mean?�
“I mean that a woman’s intuition was better than a man’s judgment. I thought they were a trifle. Perhaps they were—but there’s a big doubt.â€�