“I, sir? Surely, M. Dumergue——”
“Dumergue’s afraid of her. Will you bring her back?”
“Supposing she won’t come?”
“I didn’t request you to ask her to come. I requested you to bring her.”
I looked at him inquiringly. He inhaled a mouthful of smoke, and added, with a nod:
“Yes, if necessary.”
“Will Your Royal Highness hold me harmless from the king—or the law.”
“No. I can’t. Will you do it?”
“With pleasure, sir.”
At ten minutes to five, Lady Daynesborough, heavily veiled, and I drove up to the station in a hired cab, and hid ourselves in the third-class waiting room. At five minutes to five, Lord Daynesborough arrived. He wore a scarf up to his nose, and a cap down to his eyes, and walked to the station, unattended and without luggage. He got into a second-class smoking carriage—one of the long compartments divided into separate boxes by intervening partitions reaching within a yard of the roof, a gang-way running down the middle. On seeing him enter, I caught the guard, gave him twenty marks, and told him to admit no one except myself and my companion into that carriage. Then I hauled Lady Daynesborough in, and we sat down at the opposite end to that occupied by her husband.