"You're the only person getting off, sir. Good-night, sir; a pleasant journey!"
The porter handed out Ralph's valise, and he stepped down into the darkness, while the train went its way.
"But where the dickens is the other one?" soliloquized the young man, standing still a moment, the light snow pelting his face, while he peered into the darkness for the locomotive's head-light. "It must be behind that little depot. Here goes for a tour of investigation!" and with his valise in hand, he strode forward in the darkness, hardly knowing where he went, and wondering at the scarcity of railway officials and light.
"The train can't be here. It is probably late," he thought, and then his foot tripped, and he fell headlong over a body lying in his path.
A shudder of nameless horror shook the young man as he scrambled to an erect position, muttering:
"Good heavens! a woman, I know, from the silken garments. Now, what is she doing out here on the ground in this Cimmerian darkness, with the snow coming down in a fury?" He raised his voice and shouted loudly: "Halloo, halloo!"
The closed door of the depot, with its one blinking lighted window, opened, and then the form of a man appeared in the opening.
"Who is it, and what's the matter?" he exclaimed, shortly.
"Bring a lantern out here. I've found a woman dead in the snow!" was the startling answer.