who breathlessly enquired about his luggage he shouted, "This is
all," and flung a small leathern case on to the seat. As he settled
himself into his plate, his eye fell upon the pile of baggage which
I had bribed the station-master to establish in my corner of the
carriage--a portmanteau, a hat-box, a rug wrapped round an umbrella,
and one or two smaller parcels--all legibly labelled

G. W. E. RUSSELL,
Woodside,
Harrow-on-the-Hill.

After a glance at my property, the stranger turned to me and exclaimed:
"When you have travelled as much as I have, young sir, you will
know that, the less the luggage, the greater the ease." Youth,
I think, as a rule resents overtures from strangers, but there
was something in my fellow-traveller's address so pleasant as to
disarm resentment. His voice, his smile, his appearance, were alike
prepossessing. He drew from his pocket the _Daily News_, in those
days a famous organ for foreign intelligence, and, as he composed
himself to read, I had a full opportunity of studying his appearance.
He seemed to be somewhere between thirty and forty, of the middle
height, lean and sinewy, and, as his jump into the train had shown,
as lissom as a cat. His skin was so much tanned that it was difficult
to guess his natural complexion; but his closely cropped hair was
jet-black, and his clean-shaven face showed the roots of a very
dark beard. In those days it was fashionable to wear one's hair
rather long, and to cultivate whiskers and a moustache. Priests
and actors were the only people who shaved clean, and I decided
in my mind that my friend was an actor. Presently he laid down his
paper, and, turning to me with that grave courtesy which when one