arrived a few minutes before it started, so, getting into the smoking
carriage at the near end of the platform, he lit a cigarette, and,
leaning back in his seat, watched the late comers hurrying into the
station. Just as the last bell rang he saw a man rush along, to catch
the train. It was the same man who had been watching him the whole
evening, and Brian felt confident that he was being followed. He
comforted himself, however, with the thought that this pertinacious
follower might lose the train, and, being in the last carriage himself,
he kept a look out along the platform, expecting to see his friend of
the Esplanade standing disappointed on it. There was no appearance of
him, so Brian, sinking back into his seat, lamented his ill-luck in not
shaking off this man who kept him under such strict surveillance.

"Confound him!" he muttered softly. "I expect he will follow me to East
Melbourne, and find out where I live, but he shan't if I can help it."

There was no one but himself in the carriage, and he felt relieved at
this because he was in no humour to hear chatter.

"Murdered in a cab," he said, lighting a fresh cigarette, and blowing a
cloud of smoke. "A romance in real life, which beats Miss Braddon
hollow. There is one thing certain, he won't come between Madge and me
again. Poor Madge!" with an impatient sigh. "If she only knew all,
there would not be much chance of our marriage; but she can never find
out, and I don't suppose anyone else will."

Here a thought suddenly struck him, and rising out of his seat, he
walked to the other end of the carriage, and threw himself on the
cushions, as if desirous to escape from himself.