The little train backed slowly along the platform side. The
engine was splashed with mud and soaking wet. The faces of the
engine-driver and his companion shone from the dripping rain. The
station-master held open the door of the saloon.

"You've a rough journey before you, sir," he said. "You'll catch
the boat all right, though--if it goes. The mail train was very
heavy to-night. You should catch her up this side of Colchester."

Mr. Dunster nodded.

"I am taking this young gentleman with me," he announced shortly.
"It seems that he, too, missed the train. I am much obliged to you,
station-master, for your attention. Good night!"

They were about to start when Mr. Dunster once more let down the
window.

"By the way," he said, "as it is such a wild night, you will oblige
me very much if you will tell the engine-driver that there will be
a five pound note for himself and his companion if we catch the
mail. Inspector!"

The inspector touched his hat. The station-master had turned
discreetly away. He had been an inspector himself once, and
sovereigns had been useful to him, too. Then the train glided from
the platform side, plunged with a scream through a succession of
black tunnels, and with rapidly increasing speed faced the storm.