his way to Balmoral and a prominent Lothian baronet, but
there are limits even to the power of an express guard, on the Grand
Coast Railway.

"Well, what's the matter with this?" the Minister demanded. "Here is an
ordinary first-class coach that will do very well for us. Now, Catesby,
unlock one of these doors and turn the lights on."

"Very sorry, my lord," the guard explained, "but it can't be done. Two
of the carriages in the coach are quite full, as you see, and the other
two are reserved. As a matter of fact, my lord, we are taking a body
down to Lydmouth. Gentleman who is going to be buried there. And the
other carriage is for the Imperial Bank of Scotland. Cashier going up
north with specie, you understand."

It was all plain enough, and disgustingly logical. To intrude upon the
presence of a body was perfectly impossible; to try and force the hand
of the bank cashier equally out of the question. As head of a great
financial house, the Minister knew that. A platform inspector bustled
along presently, with his hand to his gold-laced cap.

"Saloon carriage being coupled up behind, my lord," he said.

The problem was solved. The guard glanced at his watch. It seemed to him
that both the bank messenger and the undertaker were cutting it fine.
The coffin came presently on a hand-truck--a black velvet pall lay over
it, and on the sombre cloth a wreath or two of white lilies. The door of
the carriage was closed presently, and the blinds drawn discreetly
close. Following behind this came a barrow in charge of a couple of
platform police. On the barrow were two square deal boxes, heavy out of
all proportion to their size. These were deposited presently to the
satisfaction of a little nervous-looking man in gold-rimmed glasses. Mr.
George Skidmore, of the Imperial Bank, had his share of ordinary
courage, but he had an imagination, too, and he particularly disliked
these periodical trips to branch banks, in convoy, so to speak. He took
no risks.

"Awful night, sir," the guard observed. "Rather lucky to get a carriage
to yourself, sir. Don't suppose you would have done so only we're taking
a corpse as far as Lydmouth, which is our first stop."

"Really?" Skidmore said carelessly. "Ill wind that blows nobody good,
Catesby. I may be overcautious, but I much prefer a carriage to myself.
And my people prefer it, too. That's why we always give the railway
authorities a few days' notice. One can't be too careful, Catesby."