“Better go to bed, Madgy,” Albert called. “You’ll only worry, and it’s after three.”
“I couldn’t sleep if I tried,” she answered.
Their footsteps died away in a moment, and I heard her close the door of 218. In a few moments she opened it again, and, stepping down to the station platform, began to pace up and down it. If I had only dared, I could have put my finger through the crack of the planks and touched her foot as she walked over my head, but I was afraid it might startle her into a shriek, and there was no explaining to her what it meant without telling the cowboys how close they were to their quarry.
Madge hadn’t walked from one end of the platform to the other more than three or four times, when I heard some one coming. She evidently heard it also, for she said,—
“I began to be afraid you hadn’t understood me.”
“I thought you told me to see first if I were needed,” responded a voice that even the distance and the planks did not prevent me from recognizing as that of Lord Ralles.
“Yes,” said she. “You are sure you can be spared?”
“I couldn’t be of the slightest use,” asserted Ralles, getting on to the platform and joining Madge. “It’s as black as ink everywhere, and I don’t think there’s anything to be done till daylight.”
“Then I’m glad you came back, for I really want to say something,—to ask the greatest favor of you.”
“You only have to tell me what it is,” said his lordship.