Espy stepped hastily to the window, just in time to see the train sweep by with its gleaming lights, the outline of each car barely visible in the darkness. Why did it make him think of Floy? He had no suspicion that it was bearing her away from him; yet so it was.
Thoughts of her in all her grief and desolation disturbed his rest. He woke often, and when he slept it was to dream of her in sore distress, and turning her large, lustrous eyes upon him sadly, beseechingly, and anon stretching out her arms as if imploring him to come to her relief.
Morning found him full of remorse for the harsh words he had spoken to her, and so eager to make amends that he could not be persuaded to remain for breakfast, but, leaving his adieus to the ladies with Robert, set off for Cranley before the sun was up.
He reached the town in season for the early home breakfast; but feeling that he could not wait another moment to make his peace with Floy, turned in at her gate first.
Glancing up at the house, it struck him as strange that every door and blind was tightly closed.
He had never known Floy to lie so late when in health, and a pang shot through his heart at the thought that she must be ill.
He rang the bell gently, fearing to disturb her; then, as no one came to answer it, a little louder.
Still no answer, not a sound within the dwelling; he could hear his own heart beat as he stood waiting and listening for coming footsteps that came not.
He grew frightened; he must gain admittance, must learn what was wrong. Once more he seized the bell-pull, jerked it violently several times, till he could distinctly hear its clang reverberating through the silent hall.