THE FELLOW-PASSENGER 285 



grew more and more restless, and his behaviour 

 became more and more extraordinary. If he 

 changed his seat twice during the first ten 

 minutes he must have changed it twenty times, 

 while every now and then he would cross to the 

 window and press his face against the glass in 

 an agonized fashion which I found singularly 

 disturbing to my peace of mind. I could not 

 help recalling all the stories I had ever heard of 

 journeys made in the society of raving lunatics, 

 and the recollection of the numerous tunnels 

 through which the train must pass before 

 reaching its destination filled me with very 

 natural foreboding. 



Meanwhile my companion paid no attention 

 to me at all, and at one moment I was almost 

 afraid that he was going to sit upon my knee, so 

 oblivious did he seem of my presence. More- 

 over, m}^ fears were not lessened in the first 

 tunnel beyond Finsbury Park when I heard him 

 moving about in the darkness, muttering to 

 himself, and expected at any moment to feel 

 his breath upon my cheek. I was slightly 

 reassured by the thought that, in so far as size 

 and strength were concerned, I was more than 

 a match for my fellow-passenger. Indeed, he 

 really looked so frail and insignificant a creature 

 that I believe I could easily have flattened him 

 out with one blow of my fist. Nevertheless, he 



