goods train half a mile away was noisily shunting trucks.

And yet the glamour was about her still; something indescribable but
quite palpable--something out of which she looked at you as from
another world.

He took her proffered hand, and she leapt out lightly. She was not
in the least dishevelled. It seemed as if the air must be her
proper element. She looked about her, interested, but not curious.
Her first thought was for the machine.

"Poor thing!" she said. "He must be tired."

That faint tremor of fear that had come to him when beneath the
menhir's shadow he had watched the opening of her eyes, returned to
him. It was not an unpleasant sensation. Rather it added a
piquancy to their relationship. But it was distinctly real. She
watched the feeding of the monster; and then he came again and stood
beside her on the yellow sands.

"England!" he explained with a wave of his hand. One fancies she
had the impression that it belonged to him. Graciously she repeated
the name. And somehow, as it fell from her lips, it conjured up to
Commander Raffleton a land of wonder and romance.

"I have heard of it," she added. "I think I shall like it."

He answered that he hoped she would. He was deadly serious about
it. He possessed, generally speaking, a sense of humour; but for
the moment this must have deserted him. He told her he was going to