And he remained in the cab with closed doors and windows until the servant had secured the coupe, and conveyed all the light luggage into it.
Then he left the cab, and passed at once into the coupe, leaving his servant to pay and discharge the cab, and to follow him on the train.
James Kerr, after performing these duties, went to the door of his master's little compartment to ask if he had any further orders, before going to take his place in the second-class carriages.
"No, Kerr, but come in here with me. I want you at hand during the journey," replied the duke, who, much as he confided in the young man's devotion and loyalty, could not quite trust his discretion, and therefore desired to keep him from talking.
The valet bowed and entered the coupe, taking the seat that his master pointed out.
The train moved slowly out of the station, but gaining speed as it left the town, soon began to fly swiftly on its northern course.
The October sun was setting as the train flew along the margin of the "New River," as Sir Hugh Myddellen's celebrated piece of water-engineering is called.
The October evening was chill, and the swift flight of the train drawing a strong draught that could not be kept out, increased the chilliness.
The duke leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
The valet attentively tucked the railway rug around his master's knees.