sir?"

"Elster."

A quick glance from the station-master's eyes met the answer. Elster was
the name of the family at Hartledon. He wondered whether this could be
one of them, or whether the name was merely a coincidence.

"There was no portmanteau left, was there, Jones?" asked the
station-master.

"There couldn't have been," returned the porter, touching his cap to the
stranger. "I wasn't on last night; Jim was; but it would have been put in
the office for sure; and there's not a ghost of a thing in it this
morning."

"It must have been taken on to Garchester," remarked the traveller; and,
turning to the guard, he gave him directions to look after it, and
despatch it back again by the first train, slipping at the same time a
gratuity into his hand.

The guard touched his hat humbly; he now knew who the gentleman was. And
he went into inward repentance for slamming the carriage-door, as he got
into his box, and the engine and train puffed on.

"You'll send it up as soon as it comes," said the traveller to the
station-master.

"Where to, sir?"