and had dragged down the tired face into deep furrows. He was smoking a
long black cigar.

"I suppose we may as well travel down together," said Sir Angus, not
very cordially.

Lord Doyne said courteously: "I have a reserved carriage. The railway
company is always good enough to place one at my disposal. It would give
me great pleasure if you would share it."

The invitation was accepted, and the three men crossed the busy, crowded
platform to take their seats in the great express train. A porter, laden
with an incredible load of paraphernalia, trying to make his way through
the press, happened to jostle Sir Angus McCurdie. He rubbed his shoulder
fretfully.

"Why the whole land should be turned into a bear garden on account of
this exploded superstition of Christmas is one of the anomalies of
modern civilization. Look at this insensate welter of fools travelling
in wild herds to disgusting places merely because it's Christmas!"

"You seem to be travelling yourself, McCurdie," said Lord Doyne.

"Yes--and why the devil I'm doing it, I've not the faintest notion,"
replied Sir Angus.

"It's going to be a beast of a journey," he remarked some moments later,
as the train carried them slowly out of the station. "The whole country
is under snow--and as far as I can understand we have to change twice
and wind up with a twenty-mile motor drive."