As the time was now getting very short, I left my hiding-place to go and look outside; and as I neared this couple, the boy put his arm through his mother’s, drew her attention to something at the other side of the station, and walked away with her. The woman was lame and rolled in her walk with a most grotesque waddle.
After a dozen yards or so they paused and the young fellow looked round. He appeared disconcerted to see that I was watching them, and drew his mother forward again.
Then I nearly laughed aloud. The woman took two or three steps without either the waddle or the limp; suddenly recollected herself and went lame with the wrong foot.
I hastened after them and as they quickened their pace, I called out in English: “You’ve forgotten which is your lame foot, Miralda.”
They stopped and turned, but even when I was close to them and saw their faces clearly, I should not have recognized the market woman as Miralda, nor the lanky youth as Inez, had it not been for Miralda’s eyes. I had looked too often into them not to know them.
“It is I, Ralph; you’ve been running away from me the last hour or more,” I added, laughing.
“Ralph!” cried Miralda. “What does it all mean?”
“You shall know all directly, but I must speak to your son there first. He has not a moment to lose if he means to catch this train.”
“Mr. Donnington?” exclaimed Inez. “Where——”
“You must let me talk, please,” I interrupted. “When Dr. Barosa left that house he ran into a party of police, but I managed to get a word or two with him before he fled, and I have to give you this ticket and the money with it. You are to leave by this train. If you remain another hour in Lisbon, you will be arrested.”