My gentleman’s valet and my lady’s maid traveled by the second class of the same train.
Gentleman Geff made himself as disagreeable to his fellow travelers as shattered nerves and bad temper could drive him to be, and as the hours passed he became so unendurable as to tax to the utmost the forbearance of his victims, who rejoiced when the day of torture drew to a close and their train steamed into the station at Chuxton and stopped.
They all go out and stood on the platform. The train started again and steamed northward. Gentleman Geff looked around for his state carriage and four. There was none visible. He began to curse and swear.
“Come into the waiting-room, dearest,” said Lamia sweetly. “No doubt your carriage will be here in a few moments.”
“It should be here now, waiting. I’ll be —— ——!” (with a terrible oath) “if I don’t discharge every —— —— of them as soon as I get to Haymore!” he added as he led the way into the building and sat down, not to please Lamia, but to rest himself, for bodily weakness was one other of the bad effects of his intemperance.
There were but two other passengers besides Gentleman Geff’s party who got out at Chuxton.
These were a middle-aged couple, who walked arm in arm to the Tawny Lion Tavern, engaged the only carriage there, and drove on to Haymore Hall.
These were, of course, Mr. and Mrs. John Legg.
Gentleman Geff and his friends waited and waited, the maid or the valet going out at intervals to see if the carriage from Haymore Hall had come, or was coming, Gentleman Geff cursing and swearing freely in the interim.
At last he burst out with a fearful oath, adding: