Mazarine's wagon and steaming horses were tied up outside the station,
and inside on the platform Moses-not-much, as Mazarine had been called by
Jonas Billings, marched up and down, his snaky little eyes blinking at
the doorway of the station reception-room. People came and some of them
nodded to him derisively. Some, with more hardihood, asked him if he was
going East; if he was expecting anyone; if he was seeing somebody off.

A good many asked him the last question, because, as the minutes had
passed, Burlingame had arrived. He had also disclosed his great joke to
those who would carry it far and near, together with the news that Louise
had taken flight. The last fact, however, was known to several people,
because more than one had seen the Young Doctor and Patsy Kernaghan
taking Louise to Nolan Doyle's ranch.

It was dusk. The lamps of the station were being lighted five minutes
before the express arrived, and as the lights flared up, Orlando entered
the waiting-room of the station, with a lady on his arm, and presently
showed at the platform doorway, smiling and cheerful. He did not blench
when Mazarine came towards him. Mazarine had seen the flutter of a blue
skirt in the waiting-room, and his wife had worn blue that day!

Orlando saw the heavy, offensive figure of Mazarine making for him. He,
however, appeared to take no notice, though he watched his outrageous
pursuer out of the corner of his eye, as he quietly gave orders to a
porter concerning a little heap of luggage. When he had finished this,
he turned, as it were casually, to Mazarine. Then he giggled in the face
of the Master of Tralee. It was like the matador's waving of the scarlet
cloth in the face of the enraged bull. Having thus relieved his
feelings, Orlando turned and walked to the door of the reception-room,
but was stopped by the old man rushing at him. Swinging round, Orlando