instead, and then change at Sharbot Lake, and take a second ticket
on from there to Palmyra."

I listened, half dazed. Palmyra was the place where Dr. Ivor lived.
Yet, even in the hurry of the moment, I wondered much to myself how
the policeman knew I wanted to go to Palmyra.

There was no time to ask questions, however, or to deliberate on my
plans. I took my ticket as desired, in a turmoil of feelings, and
jumped on to the train. I trusted by this time I had eluded
detection. I ought to have come, I saw now, under a feigned name.
This horrid publicity was more than I could endure. My policeman
helped me in with his persistent politeness, and saw my boxes
checked as far as Sharbot Lake for me. Then he handed me the checks.

"Go in the Pullman," he said quietly. "It's a long journey, you
know: four-and-twenty hours. You've only just caught it. But if
you'd stopped in Quebec, you'd never have been able to give the
sightseers the slip. You'd have been pestered all through. I think
you're safe now. It was this or nothing."

"Oh, thank you so much!" I cried, with heartfelt gratitude, leaning
out of the window as the train was on the point of starting. I
pulled out my purse, and drew timidly forth a sovereign. "I've only
English money," I said, hesitating, for I didn't know whether he'd
be offended or not at the offer of a tip--he seemed such a perfect
gentleman. "But if that's any use to you--"

He smiled a broad smile and shook his head, much amused.