The sun had set. The long twilight of northern latitudes came on.
At the first station where the express stopped, the guard opened the door and offered to light the lamps, but the duke forbade him, saying that he preferred the darkness.
The guard closed the door and retired, and the train started again, and flew on northward through the deepening night.
It stopped only at the largest towns and cities on its route—at Peterboro', at York, at Newcastle, and Edinboro'.
It was sunrise when the train reached Lone, the only small station at which it stopped on the route.
The guard opened the door of the coupe, and the young duke got out, attended by his valet.
The train stopped but one minute, and then shot out of the station and flew on toward Aberdeen.
The distance between the railway station and the "Hereward Arms," was very short, so the duke preferred to walk it, followed by his valet and a railway porter carrying his light luggage.
The sun had risen indeed, although it was nowhere visible.
A Scotch mist had risen from the lake, and settled over the mountains, vailing all the grand features of the landscape.