engers.

The crossing was a rough one, and I saw nothing more of either Delora
or the girl. I had very little hand baggage, and I was one of the
first to reach the train, where I made myself comfortable in the
corner seat of a carriage towards the rear end. The inspector, whom I
knew very well, locked my door, and until the last moment it seemed as
though I should have the compartment to myself. The train, indeed, was
on the point of starting, and I had almost given up looking out for my
fellow passengers when they came hurrying up along the platform. I saw
them glancing into the windows of every carriage in the hope of
finding a seat. Two porters carried their small baggage. An
obsequious guard followed in the rear. Just as they were opposite to
the carriage in which I was sitting the whistle blew.

"Plenty of room higher up!" the inspector exclaimed. "Take your
seats, please."

"We will get in here," the girl answered,--"that is to say, unless it
is a reserved carriage. Please to open the door at once."

The inspector hesitated, remembering the tip which I had given him,
but he had no alternative. The guard produced his key and opened the
door. It was not until that moment that the girl recognized me. She
stepped back, and the look which she threw in my direction was
certainly not flattering.

"Can you find us another carriage?" she asked the guard, imperiously.

"Quite impossible, miss," the man answered. "You must get in here or
be left behind."

They had barely time to take their seats. As my place was next to the
window, I felt bound to help the porter hand in the small packages.
The man Delora, who was wrapped up in a fur coat, and who looked
ghastly ill, thanked me courteously enough, but the girl ignored my
assistance. They took the two corner seats at the further end of the
carriage. Delora immediately composed himself to sleep.

"It was a wretched crossing!" he said to the girl,--"the most
miserable crossing I have ever had! And these trains,--so small, so
uncomfortable!"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"When one travels," she said, "I suppose that one must put up with
inconveniences of all sorts."

I knew very well that the last part of her sentence not only had
reference to me, but was intended for my hearing. I affected,
however, to be absorbed in the magazine which I was reading, and under
cover of which I was able to make a close observation of the man, who
was sitting on the same side as my