s case,
a weapon literally forced into Midwinter's hands. He let go of Mr.
Bashwood's arm, and accepted Mr. Bashwood's explanation.

"I beg your pardon," he said; "I have no doubt you are right. Pray
attribute my rudeness to over-anxiety and over-fatigue. I wish you
good-evening."

The station was by this time almost a solitude, the passengers by
the train being assembled at the examination of their luggage in the
custom-house waiting-room. It was no easy matter, ostensibly to take
leave of Mr. Bashwood, and really to keep him in view. But Midwinter's
early life with the gypsy master had been of a nature to practice him in
such stratagems as he was now compelled to adopt. He walked away toward
the waiting-room by the line of empty carriages; opened the door of
one of them, as if to look after something that he had left behind, and
detected Mr. Bashwood making for the cab-rank on the opposite side
of the platform. In an instant Midwinter had crossed, and had passed
through the long row of vehicles, so as to skirt it on the side furthest
from the platform. He entered the second cab by the left-hand door the
moment after Mr. Bashwood had entered the first cab by the right-hand
door. "Double your fare, whatever it is," he said to the driver, "if you
keep the cab before you in view, and follow it wherever it goes." In a
minute more both vehicles were on their way out of the station.

The clerk sat in the sentry-box at the gate, taking down the
destinations of the cabs as they passed. Midwinter heard the man who was
driving him call out "Hampstead!" as he went by the clerk's window.

"Why did you say 'Hampstead'?" he asked, when they had left the station.

"Because the man before me said 'Hampstead,' sir," answered the driver.

Over and over again, on the wearisome journey to the northwestern
suburb, Midwinter asked if the cab was still in sight. Over and over
again, the man answered, "Right in front of us."

It was between nine and ten o'clock when the driver pulled up his horse
at last. Midwinter got out, and saw the cab before them waiting at a
house door. As soon as he had satisfied himself that the driver was
the man whom Mr. Bashwood had hired, he paid the promised reward, and
dismissed his own cab.

He took a turn backward and forward before the door. The vaguely
terrible suspicion which had risen in his mind at the terminus had
forced itself by this time into a definite form which was abhorrent to
him. Withou