After finishing this paragraph, which discreetly suppressed any further
personality than to remark that the deceased bore one of those quaint
old Knickerbocker surnames which are in New York synonymous with haut
ton and gentility, Bressant folded up the paper, and, resting his arms
upon the back of the seat in front of him, made them a pillow for his
forehead. This position he maintained so long, that his neighbor with
the wig came to the conclusion that he must be either asleep or drunk;
and, by way of arriving at some solution of the question, abstracted
from his hand the rolled-up newspaper which protruded out of it. At this
the young man roused himself, and presently turned to him of the wig,
and thanked him for his loan with an earnestness which appeared to him,
under the circumstances, rather uncalled for. He began to doubt the
prudence of sitting next to so large a man, of so singular a behavior,
and took advantage of the next vacancy that occurred to shift his
quarters, carrying the newspaper with him.
Darkness had fallen, and the lighted interior of the crowded car had
duplicated itself, through the medium of the glass window-pane, upon the
black vacancy without, long before the train halted at the station which
marked the boundary of Bressant's riding privilege. He got out, and was
immediately smitten in the face by the cold, impalpable fingers of a
thick falling snow-storm.
A bobbing lantern, carried by an invisible man, was all that came to
welcome him. He walked into the waiting-room, which was lighted by a
lamp with a dirty tin reflector behind it, and was furnished with a few
well-worn chairs, painted gray, and polished by use; a couple of
spittoons, and a pyramidal stove containing the ashes of the day's fire.
The plaster walls were ornamented by many-colored railway cards, and by
a fly-spotted and dusty map. A clock was fastened over the door.
He turned to the man with the lantern (who was standing in the door-way,
looking as if he rather suspected Bressant contemplated stealing some of
the valuables of the place), and asked him whether he could tell him
the nearest road to his destination. After considerable questioning and
delay, the man finally announced his entire ignorance in the matter; and
Bressant was just about to make him a sharp rejoinder, when his eyes
happened to fall upon the map. He stepped up to it, and found it to be
of the State in which they were.
By the aid of the lantern, and a good deal of dusting, he finally
discovered the spot in which he then stood, and managed to trace out a
doubtful line of road, between that and the place whither he was bound.
There seemed to be few cross-roads, however, and such as there were he
rapidly noted in his memory. In one place the road ran off in a kind of
loop, to pass through an outlying village, and, by making a cross-cut at
that point, he might save himself five or six miles. But since, on
calculation, he found it would be at least six o'clock in the morning
before he got to the loop in question, he decided not to risk
abandoning, in the state he would then be in, the beaten track for any
such problematical advantage.