sentry, enjoying an unaccustomed sense of importance. The sentry
glanced left, then right. "'E's a slipping off all by 'imself down
to Osborne by the 6.40 from Waterloo. Nobody knows it--'cept, o'
course, just a few of us. That's 'is way all over. 'E just 'ates-
-"

A footstep sounded down the corridor. The sentry became
statuesque.

At Waterloo, Tommy inspected the 6.40 train. Only one compartment
indicated possibilities, an extra large one at the end of the coach
next the guard's van. It was labelled "Reserved," and in the place
of the usual fittings was furnished with a table and four easy-
chairs. Having noticed its position, Tommy took a walk up the
platform and disappeared into the fog.

Twenty minutes later, Prince Blank stepped hurriedly across the
platform, unnoticed save by half a dozen obsequious officials, and
entered the compartment reserved for him. The obsequious officials
bowed. Prince Blank, in military fashion, raised his hand. The
6.40 steamed out slowly.

Prince Blank, who was a stout gentleman, though he tried to
disguise the fact, seldom found himself alone. When he did, he
generally indulged himself in a little healthy relaxation. With
two hours' run to Southampton before him, free from all possibility
of intrusion, Prince Blank let loose the buttons of his powerfully
built waistcoat, rested his bald head on the top of his chair,
stretched his great legs across another, and closed his terrible,
small eyes.