He perceived that he would have to make use of all his faculties if he were to succeed in his object. The man opposite him would not be easily cozened. But the effort must be made. He began to turn over in his brain a variety of plans, while he chatted with his companion.
The whistle sounded, doors banged, the train moved out into the night. There was no escape now. But how was he to gain possession of the case in Captain Marven's possession without exciting suspicion? As a stranger, there would have been greater chance of effecting the coup by some sudden stratagem. But, positioned as he now found himself, he was practically helpless unless Marven should sleep. Guy looked up at the Captain's face. It was an alert face, not the face of a man who sleeps while on duty. It would be difficult to evade the glance of those cool, grey eyes, trusting as they seemed. The firm mouth and the set of the jaw told of a character that would not be amenable to sudden panic. Captain Marven was obviously a soldier. How could it be that he was carrying despatches for the Foreign Office? What if he were mistaken? The thought startled the young man from his reverie to hear his query answered.
Captain Marven was speaking to him, and he had missed the opening remark. "It's unusual for me to find one of our own set as companion on my frequent journeyings," he said, "though, of course, one does run up against friends, occasionally."
"You travel a lot then?" asked Guy mechanically.
"It is the business of a King's messenger," answered Marven drily.
"I didn't know," remarked Guy in genuine surprise, while the thought flashed into his mind that the despatches must be important indeed, since they had not been entrusted to the care of one of the ordinary officials of the Foreign Office. "I had no idea that you belonged to that select body."
"Nearly twenty years in the service, my boy," answered Marven. "If I were a motor-car my mileage would be considered something extraordinary, but being only a man——"
He ended the comment with a laugh.
Guy echoed it.
"I understood that you were——" He was about to add, "a man about town like myself," but checked himself. Marven laughed and finished the sentence. "A good-for-nothing idler like yourself, eh, Hora? No," he continued. "I was once. Indeed, to my eternal regret, I left the army when I ought to have been thinking seriously of it as a profession. But I had everything I asked of life then, and I rather chafed at my duties. Later"—a shadow passed over his face—"I felt a need to do something which would keep me away from thoughts which—I wanted some work with movement in it, and, having plenty of influential friends, I found myself a superior sort of postman."