n: YOU CAN'T GET OUT HERE, HE SAID, CRUSTILY.]

For half a minute I could not speak. My heart was in my mouth. I hardly
even dared to look at Harold. Then the station-master stalked up to us
with a threatening manner. 'You can't get out here,' he said, crustily,
in a gruff Scotch voice. 'This train is not timed to set down before
Edinburgh.'

'We _have_ got out,' I answered, taking it upon me to speak for my
fellow-culprit, the Hindu--as he was to all seeming. 'The logic of facts
is with us. We were booked through to Edinburgh, but we wanted to stop
at Dunbar; and as the train happened to pull up, we thought we needn't
waste time by going on all that way and then coming back again.'

'Ye should have changed at Berwick,' the station-master said, still
gruffly, 'and come on by the slow train.' I could see his careful
Scotch soul was vexed (incidentally) at our extravagance in paying the
extra fare to Edinburgh and back again.

In spite of agitation, I managed to summon up one of my sweetest
smiles--a smile that ere now had melted the hearts of rickshaw coolies
and of French _douaniers_. He thawed before it visibly. 'Time was
important to us,' I said--oh, he guessed not how important; 'and
besides, you know, it is so good for the company!'

'That's true,' he answered, mollified. He could not tilt against the
interests of the North British shareholders. 'But how about yer luggage?
It'll have gone on to Edinburgh, I'm thinking.'

'We _have_ no luggage,' I answered boldly.

He stared at us both, puckered his brow a moment, and then burst out
laughing. 'Oh, ay, I see,' he answered, with a comic air of amusement.
'Well, well, it's none of my business, no doubt, and I will not
interfere with ye; though why a lady like you----' He glanced curiously
at Harold.

I saw he had guessed right, and thought it best to throw myself
unreservedly on his mercy. Time was indeed important. I glanced at the
station clock. It was not very far from the stroke of six, and we must
manage to get married before the detective could miss us at Edinburgh,
where he was due at 6.30.

So I smiled once more, that heart-softening smile. 'We have each our own
fancies,' I said blushing--and, indeed (such is the pride of race among
women), I felt myself blush in earnest at the bare idea that I was
marrying a black man, in spite of our good Maharajah's kindness. 'He is
a gentleman, and a man of education and culture.' I thought that
recommendation oug