ted his
hat to me, though otherwise he took no overt notice. But I saw his keen
eyes follow me down the train. Harold, in his Oriental dress, pretended
not to observe me. One or two porters, and a few curious travellers,
cast inquiring eyes on the Eastern prince, and made remarks about him to
one another. 'That's the chap as was up yesterday in the Ashurst will
kise!' said one lounger to his neighbour. But nobody seemed to look at
Harold; his subordinate position secured him from curiosity. The
Maharajah had always two Eastern servants, gorgeously dressed, in
attendance; he had been a well-known figure in London society, and at
Lord's and the Oval, for two or three seasons.

'Bloomin' fine cricketer!' one porter observed to his mate as he passed.

'Yuss; not so dusty for a nigger,' the other man replied. 'Fust-rite
bowler; but, Lord, he can't 'old a candle to good old Ranji.'

As for myself, nobody seemed to recognise me. I set this fact down to
the fortunate circumstance that the evening papers had published rough
wood-cuts which professed to be my portrait, and which naturally led the
public to look out for a brazen-faced, raw-boned, hard-featured
termagant.

I took my seat in a ladies' compartment by myself. As the train was
about to start, Harold strolled up as if casually for a moment. 'You
think it better so?' he queried, without moving his lips or seeming to
look at me.

'Decidedly,' I answered. 'Go back to Partab. Don't come near me again
till we get to Edinburgh. It is dangerous still. The police may at any
moment hear we have started and stop us half-way; and now that we have
once committed ourselves to this plan it would be fatal to be
interrupted before we have got married.'

'You are right,' he cried; 'Lois, you are always right, somehow.'

I wished I could think so myself; but 'twas with serious misgivings that
I felt the train roll out of the station.

Oh, that long journey north, alone, in a ladies' compartment--with the
feeling that Harold was so near, yet so unapproachable: it was an
endless agony. _He_ had the Maharajah, who loved and admired him, to
keep him from brooding; but I, left alone, and confined with my own
fears, conjured up before my eyes every possible misfortune that Heaven
could send us. I saw clearly now that if we failed in our purpose this
journey would be taken by everyone for a flight, and would deepen the
suspicion under which we both laboured. It would make me still more