"When does the train go?"
"The train? Oh, at two in the morning."
"How long does it take?"
"Five days."
"Five days!" echoed Shock, in a voice of despair.
"You might wire a message in the meantime," said the Convener kindly. "We will go down to the telegraph office after you have had a rest and a cup of tea."
"No, no," said Shock, turning eagerly from the door. "I am all right; cannot we go now?"
At the telegraph office a number of men stood laughing and talking. Shock drew a blank sheet toward him and set himself to compose his wire. Again and again he made the attempt, but at length he put down the pen and looked around piteously at his friend. "I cannot say it!" he exclaimed in a hurried whisper.
"Come outside a minute," said the Convener, taking his arm. "Now tell me what you want to say and perhaps I can help you."
"Oh!" cried Shock, wreathing his great fingers an his agony. "I want to say goodbye—No, no, not that! I want to tell her—give her my love and say I want to see her. She will be wanting me." His breath began to come in great heaving sobs.