The duke slipped in at the private entrance and gained his own apartment, where he found his valet engaged in packing his valise.
He sent the man out to pay the tavern bill.
In a few minutes Kerr returned, accompanied by the landlord, who brought the receipt, and inquired if his grace would have a carriage.
"No," the duke said; as the distance was short, he preferred to walk to the station.
In a few moments he left the inn, followed by his valet carrying his valise.
They caught the train in good time, having just secured their tickets when the warning shriek of the engine was heard, and it thundered up to the station and stopped.
The duke, followed by his servant, entered the coupe he had secured for the journey.
Three nights of sleeplessness, anxiety and fatigue had prostrated the vital forces of the young nobleman, and so, no sooner had the train started, than he sat himself comfortably back among his cushions, and, being now in a great measure relieved from suspense, he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. This sleep continued almost unbroken through the night, and was only slightly disturbed by the bustle of arrival when the train reached a large city on its route. He awoke when it arrived at Peterborough; but fell asleep again, and slept through the long twilight of that first day of November.