better. In the meantime, this is bad enough. I can think of only one
cure for what we've been through here, and that is a Sunday in London.
Let us start."

"London!" breathed Lewis. "Are we going to London?"

"Yes, we are. It's a peculiar fact, well known and long cursed among
travelers, that all the steamers in the world arrive in England on
Saturday afternoon. We'll get to London for Sunday."

During the long voyage, for the first time since the day on which he met
the stranger, and which already seemed of long ago, Lewis had time to
think. A sadness settled on him. What were they doing at Nadir on this
starry night? Were the goats corraled? Who had brought them in? Was
mammy crooning songs of low-swinging chariots and golden stairs? Was
Mrs. Leighton still patiently sewing? The Reverend Orme, was he still
sitting scowling and staring and staring? And Natalie? Was she there, or
was she gone, married? He drew a great, quivering sigh.

Leighton looked around.

"Trying to pick up a side-tracked car?"

Lewis smiled faintly, but understandingly.

"It's not quite side-tracked--yet," he said.

"Ah, boy, never look back," said Leighton. "But, no; do. Do look back.
You're young yet. Tell me about it."