Evening star., 1935-11-03
November 3, 1895


like terrified beast. down the long white
road between the two endless lines of ghostly
poplars each answering another. into what
seemed an infinite distance. On one side of the
road there was long straight canal, in which
one ofthe lines of poplars was again endessly
reflected He heard the footsteps echoing be-
hind him. They seemed to be slowly but
steadily gaining upon him.
A quarter of mile away, he saw small
white cottage by the roadside, a white cot
tage with two dark windows and door that
somehow suggested human face He thought
to himself that. if he could reach it in time. he
might find shelter and security escape
The thin implaCabe footsteps, echoing his
own, were still some way off when he lurched,
gasping. into the little porch; ratified the latch,
thrust at the door and found it locked against
him. There was no bell or knocker He
pounded on the wood with his fists until his
knuckles bled The response was horribly
slow. At last, he heard heavier foot steps
within the cottage Slowly they descended the
creaking stair. Slowly the door was unlocked
A tall shadowy figure stood before him,
holding lighted candle, in such way that
he could see little either of the holders face or
form; but to his dumb horror there seemed to
be cere-cloth wrapped round the face.
No words passed between them The figure
beckoned him in: and, as he obeyed. it locked
the door behind him. Then, beckonng him
again, without word, the figure went before
him up the crooked stair, with the ghostly
candle casting huge and grotesque shadows on
the white washed walls and ceiling
They entered an upper room in which there
was bright fire burning. with an armchair
on either side of it, and small oak table. on
which there lay battered old book. bound in
dark red buCkram 1t seemed as though the
guest had been long expected and all things
were prepared.
The figure pointed to one of the arnl-Cllairs,
placed the Cande-stiCk on the table bv the
book for there was no other light but that of
the fire and withdrew without word locking
the door behind him.
Mortimer looked at the candle stick. 1t
seemed familiar. The smell of the guttering
wax brought back the little room in the old
Elizabethan house He picked up the book
with trembling fingers He recognized it at
once, though he had long forgotten everything
about the story. He remembered the ink stain
on the title e-page; and then, with shock of
recollection. he came on the tlftieth page,
which he had pinned down in childhood The
pins We're still there He touched them again .
- the very pins which his trembling childish
fingers had used SO long ago.
He turned back to the beginning. Ee was
determined to read it to the end now, and dis
cover what it all was about. He felt that it
must all be set down there, in print; and
though. in childhood he could not understand
it he would be able to fathom it now.
1t was called "The Midnight Express; and
as he read the first paragraph, it began to
dawn upon him slowly, learfully, inevitably
II wos the story Of man who, in childhood.
long ago, had chanced upon book, in which
there WaS q picture that frightened him. He had
groon up and forgotten ii, and one night. upon
lonely railuay platform, lie had found himself
tn the remembered scene Of the picture; he had
confronted the solitary figure mndcr The lamp;
recognized ii, and fled in panic. He had taken
shelter in Wdyside cottage; had been led 10 an
upper rOOm found the hook auaiting him and
had begun 10 read ii rigM through 10 the rcty end,
at last - And this book too, WaS called
"The Midnight Express" And it ,Vas the-story
Of man who, in childhood - II mOud 60 on
thus, for erer and for ever, and tOr erer. There
tos M pSr1bo