Many other passengers were on the platform, and the chief concern of all was their luggage.
The platform was soon littered with a rich variety of trunks and portmanteaux, which were gradually sorted into family groups. Duke hunted for the small box which contained his own and Noel's slender outfit.
Just as he had made up his mind that it was lost, the guard tumbled it out of his van on to the platform, shouting to a porter as the train started and he swung himself into it, "The two little chaps will be met at the Golden Lion."
"Two little chaps!" Duke's dignity was seriously impaired. Noel might be a "little chap," but everyone said what a tall, big fellow Duke was for his age.
Noel, meanwhile, had been looking round and had discovered, amid various private and hired vehicles waiting outside the station, a small country omnibus to which were harnessed three tall, bony horses.
"I believe it goes to Trevethick," he said to Duke as he drew his attention to the conveyance. The porters were beginning to load the top with luggage, while a short, square, red-faced man standing by the gate shouted instructions.
"Oh, we're not going in that," said Duke; then turning to one of the porters, he asked again, "Where is the coach for Trevethick?"
"There he be," said the man, jerking his head towards the conveyance.
"But that isn't a coach," said Duke.
"Baint it?" said the man. "Then I reckon he'll have to do instid of one."