"I leave the matter entirely in your hands, Guy," he had said. "If you see a favourable opportunity, take it. Opportunity only passes by the unobservant. Still, such may be lacking, and if none presents itself do not strive to make one. One failure in our profession is the end of a career. I don't want to see your career cut short yet. It is a difficult task you have undertaken, and I shall not be surprised if no opportunity presents itself. Don't think I shall blame you."
The words were in his mind, as he passed coach after coach, and saw no one who seemed at all likely to be the messenger bearing the despatches. He returned to the door of the compartment where his bag lay. A porter came to the door, glanced in, then opened the door of the next compartment, and pasted a little label "reserved" on the window. Guy, standing on the platform, looked at the entrance a dozen yards distant. He became conscious of a little thrill of excitement in the thought that Hora's deductions were likely to be proved accurate. It was the next instant that he wished that he had concealed his identity. A passenger made his appearance and the moment their eyes met Guy recognised him, even as he knew he was himself recognised. It was too late to seek retirement in the train. He stood still while the newcomer advanced with outstretched hand.
"Guy Hora, if I'm not mistaken, by all that's lucky. Going anywhere on this train, eh?"
Mechanically Guy took the offered hand. There was no need for him to attempt to infuse any surprise into his voice. He could only ejaculate "Captain Marven!"
"Himself," said Marven, "and as much surprised to find a friend here as you are." He glanced into the compartment where Guy's bag remained.
"Unless you want to sleep undisturbed, I should propose that we travel together," he remarked.
"If I might intrude," begun Guy hesitatingly.
"Intrude? You don't know how delighted I shall be," said Marven heartily. He beckoned the porter who stood holding open the door of the reserved compartment. "Put this gentleman's bag in here," he said. "Now, jump in," he continued to Guy.
The young man obeyed. The porter closed the door, touched his cap, and turned away. Captain Marven tossed a bundle of magazines on the seat and settled himself in a corner. "Better to look upon than magazines is the face of a friend on a five hours' journey," he said laughingly.
"Much better," replied Guy. His first surprise had been succeeded by a second much greater. Captain Marven's coat had swung back as he entered the compartment, and Guy had observed beneath it a despatch case. It flashed upon him that Captain Marven must be the carrier of the despatches. There seemed to be something uncanny in Hora's prescience. Fate had given him the opportunity which the Commandatore had declared awaited the observant, and it remained for Guy to take advantage of it. But there was a bitter thought commingled with the realisation of the fact that the opportunity he desired had been given to him. This man had seemed so friendly disposed towards him from the moment they first met. There seemed to Guy to be something particularly mean in an act of treachery towards him. But he had no opportunity to brood upon the thought, even had he desired to do so, and he did not desire to contemplate it. Besides, not to take full advantage of the opportunity would be treachery to the Commandatore, who was depending upon his success. Guy put aside his new-born scruples, and concentrated his attention on the business in hand.