“For the bite, yes; it may be of no harm, but the shock to the nerves! I should have been warned.”
“We didn’t know that you were going into the baggage car,” protested Terry.
“What a terrible journey—look at the snow,” said the Prince, sinking into his seat.
They looked out. The movement of the train exaggerated the whirling of the snow until it seemed like a frozen, white whirlwind, sweeping past them, or a drove of wild, white horses whose manes brushed the window panes. Beyond the whirling drift they could see nothing.
Terry looked at his watch. Down the aisle Ruth heard a man asking how late they were, but could not catch the answer.
“Let’s have something to eat; even if we’re on time, we won’t want to wait luncheon until our arrival. A twelve-mile drive through this doesn’t sound very alluring, and we may die of starvation on the way.”
Terry’s glance included both Ruth and Prince Aglipogue.
“Food I cannot face after what I have witnessed,” said the Prince. “Perhaps I may have something—a cup of tea—something to keep up my—what did you say—two hours late?”
He clutched the arm of a passing conductor.
“Yes, sir; two hours late now—only two hours,” he answered wearily, freeing his arm and passing on. Prince Aglipogue sank back in his chair as if he would never rise again.