ish thing, and gave the groom in
livery half-a-crown into the bargain.

"We shall have you down again soon, Mr John," said the groom, who
seemed to understand that Mr Eames was to be made quite at home at
the manor.

He went fast to sleep in the carriage, and did not awake till the
train was stopped at the Barchester Junction.

"Waiting for the up-train from Barchester, sir," said the guard.
"They're always late." Then he went to sleep again, and was aroused
in a few minutes by some one entering the carriage in a great hurry.
The branch train had come in, just as the guardians of the line then
present had made up their minds that the passengers on the main line
should not be kept waiting any longer. The transfer of men, women,
and luggage was therefore made in great haste, and they who were
now taking their new seats had hardly time to look about them. An
old gentleman, very red about the gills, first came into Johnny's
carriage, which up to that moment he had shared with an old lady.
The old gentleman was abusing everybody, because he was hurried, and
would not take himself well into the compartment, but stuck in the
doorway, standing on the step.

"Now, sir, when you're quite at leisure," said a voice behind the old
man, which instantly made Eames start up in his seat.

"I'm not at all at leisure," said the old man; "and I'm not going to
break my legs if I know it."

"Take your time, sir," said the guard.

"So I mean," said the old man, seating himself in the corner nearest
to the open door, opposite to the old lady. Then Eames saw plainly
that it was Crosbie who had first spoken, and that he was getting
into the carriage.

Crosbie at the first glance saw no one but the old gentleman and the
old lady, and he immediately made for the unoccupied corner seat.
He was busy with his umbrella and his dressing-bag, and a little
flustered by the pushing and hurrying. The carriage was actually
in motion before he perceived that John Eames was opposite to him:
Eames had, instinctively, drawn up his legs so as not to touch him.
He felt that he had become very red in the face, and to tell the
truth, the perspiration had broken out upon his brow. It was a
great occasion,--great in its imminent trouble, and great in its
opportunity for action. How was he to carry himself at the first
moment of his recognition by his enemy, and what was he to do
afterwards?

It need hardly be explained that Crosbie had also been spending