So we adjourned together to the restaurant-car, dragging Watkins with us, much against his will; and we ate a jovial meal, all relieved by the relaxation in the strain which had been imposed upon us and enjoying the comic reluctance with which Watkins permitted himself to be forced to sit at the table with Hugh.
"Dammit, Watty!" Hugh finally explained. "You're not a valet on this trip. You're a brother adventurer. I don't want any valeting. I'm taking you along for the benefit of your strong right arm."
"All very well, your ludship," mourned Watkins, "but if the Servants' 'All ever 'ears of it it's disgraced I'll be. I couldn't 'old up me 'ead again."
"I'll take care of that. And do you think we'd leave you to eat by yourself? Suppose that pretty lady of yours came in and sat down beside you. What would you do?"
"I'd 'eave 'er out the window, your ludship," said Watkins simply.
We loafed through dinner, and complete darkness had shut down when we returned to our compartment.
"I say," exclaimed Nikka, as he switched on the light. "Was your bag up there when we left, Hugh?"
Hugh studied the arrangement of the luggage on the racks.
"Can't say," he admitted finally. "But it ought to show if it's been pawed over."
He hauled it down, and opened it. Everything apparently was in perfect order.