Stewart shook his head to show that he didn't understand, and produced his passport.
The man waved it impatiently away, and wrenched viciously at the door, purple with rage at finding it locked. Then he shouted savagely at someone farther up the platform.
"I have always been told that the Germans were a phlegmatic people," observed Stewart; "but as a matter of fact, they blow up quicker and harder than anybody I ever saw. Look at that fellow, now——"
But at that moment a guard came running up, produced a key, and opened the door.
"Come, get out!" said the man, with a gesture there was no mistaking, and Stewart, picking up his bags, stepped out upon the platform and helped his companion to alight.
"How long will we be detained here?" he asked in English; but the man, with a contemptuous shrug, motioned him to stand back.
Looking along the platform, Stewart saw approaching the head of an infantry column. In a moment, the soldiers were clambering into the coaches, with the same mathematical precision he had seen before. But there was something unfamiliar in their appearance; and, looking more closely, Stewart saw that their spiked helmets were covered with gray cloth, and that not a button or bit of gilt glittered anywhere on the gray-green field uniforms. Wonderful forethought, he told himself. By night these troops would be quite invisible; by day they would be merged indistinguishably with the brown soil of the fields, the gray trunks of trees, the green of hedges.
The train rolled slowly out of the station, and Stewart saw that on the track beyond there was another, also loaded with troops. In a moment, it started westward after the first; and beyond it a third train lay revealed.
Stewart, glancing at his companion, was startled by the whiteness of her face, the steely glitter of her eyes.
"It looks like a regular invasion," he said. "But let us find out what's going to happen to us. We can't stand here all night. Good heavens—what is that?"