I consulted my watch.
"Ten minutes to two," I replied. "Roughly speaking, we have an hour to wait."
"We are lucky in not having longer," Pharos replied. "It is a piece of good fortune to get a train at all at such an early hour."
With that he seated himself in a corner and closed his eyes as if preparatory to slumber. I suppose I must have dozed off after a while, for I have no remembrance of anything further until I was awakened by hearing the steps of a man on the platform outside, and his voice calling to a certain Joel, whoever he might be, to know if there were any news of the train for which we were waiting.
Before the other had time to answer Pharos had risen and gone out. The exclamation of surprise, to say nothing of the look of astonishment upon the stationmaster's face—for the badge upon his cap told me it was he—when he found Pharos standing before him, was comical in the extreme.
"Good evening," said the latter in his most urbane manner, "or rather, since it is getting on for three o'clock, I suppose I should say 'Good morning.' Is you train likely to be late, do you think?"
"I don't fancy so, sir," the man replied. "She always runs up to time."
Then, unable to contain the curiosity our presence on his platform at such an hour occasioned him, he continued, "No offence, I hope, sir, but we don't have many passengers of your kind by it as a general rule. It's full early for ladies and gentlemen Tebworth way to be travelling about the country."
"Very likely," said Pharos, with more than his usual sweetness; "but you see, my friend, our case is peculiar. We have a poor lady with us whom we are anxious to get up to London as quickly as possible. The excitement of travelling by day would be too much for her, so we choose the quiet of the early morning. Of course you understand."
Pharos tapped his forehead in a significant manner, and his intelligence being thus complimented, the man glanced into the shelter, and seeing Valerie seated there with a sad expression upon her face, turned to Pharos and said—