"Give him the usual warning!" interposed a crafty voice out of the crowd, in some excitement. "You must give him the usual warning. That's the law."
Serpos put a hand to his forehead. "Get me out of here," he said. "I–I give myself up. You'd better take this. It's got the-you know — in it. You'd better take it."
The black bag, containing whatever it was he had stolen, was put into my hands.
"Ain't you going to write down what he says?" interposed the crafty voice again. "Where's your notebook? You must write down what he says. Where's your no-o-otebook?"
I was getting pretty flustered. Symbolically speaking, I wished to give the crafty voice a push in the face. Around us the group was increasing, while I stood with a prisoner whom I was forced to capture, and a bag containing stolen goods in my hand. What the devil was I going to do with him? This time the matter was past doubt: it was the sort of rumpus which would inevitably draw down a real Robert within a few more minutes.
I looked out over the crowd, seeing all sorts of faces — but nowhere did I see Evelyn. There was some confusion caused by people getting off the train (my zealous friend in the tweed cap was embracing a stout lady, but looking over her shoulder to see what went on), and a clutter of trucks hung round the luggage-van. The train breathed noisily in faint steam. Its coaches, coloured in brown and cream, had their doors and windows crowded with heads; through other windows I could see the red-shaded lamps of a restaurant-car, and I ached for sustenance beyond the resources of a halfpenny; finally, a board along' the coach-roofs bore the inscription: PLYMOUTH, BRISTOL & PADDINGTON, which meant
the open road to London.
Then I saw Evelyn at last.
She was just turning round after getting into a fast-class compartment, and peering out of the open door. She looked nervous and worried now; her eyes searched the platform;
Immediately behind her in the same compartment I saw none other than Mr. Johnson Stone, just in the act of putting his straw hat down on a corner seat. He straightened up, with a glow on his alert pince-nez and a cigar in his mouth. Then he caught sight of me.