THROUGH THE NIGHT
events, there was a sound of colliding hubs followed by a fine collection of oaths delivered in a rich Irish brogue. Nelson was much too sleepy to offer apology or explanation and the unknown but eloquent traveler rattled on into the night, complimentary to the last.
Shortly after midnight they rumbled across a bridge and onto the cobbles of a fair-sized village. By now it was possible to see the horses' heads and a corresponding distance on all sides and Nelson awoke Martin from his slumber. The town seemed utterly dark and deserted until, presently, the street on which they traveled turned abruptly and a lantern above a doorway confronted them with the startling legend: "Police." Beyond it a few lights showed dimly in another building and from somewhere in the darkness further away a train was being shunted along a track. Martin viewed the police station doubtfully and went past. The next collection of lights came from the lower floor of a small hotel. It didn't look very hospitable, but nevertheless Martin stopped the horses—he experienced no difficulty—climbed down and disappeared from sight. Nelson heard a door open and close. He lolled on the seat and nodded in the faint radiance of
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