"What is it?" he demanded. "Has something happened? Where are we going?"
But Zillah held on determinedly, her eyes fixed ahead.
"Quick!" she said, pantingly. "A man I saw just now! He was there—he's gone—while I looked for you. We must find him! He must have gone this way. Andie!—look for him! A tall, clean-shaven man in a slouched hat and a heavy travelling coat—a foreigner of some sort. Oh, look!"
It was the first time she had called Lauriston by his name, and he gave her arm an involuntary pressure as they hastened along.
"But why?" he asked. "Who is he—what do you want with him? What's it all about?"
"Oh, find him!" she exclaimed. "You don't know how important it is! If I lose sight of him now, I'll very likely never see him again. And he must be found—and stopped—for your sake!"
They had come to the end of the platform, by that time, and Lauriston looked left and right in search of the man described. Suddenly he twisted Zillah round.
"Is that he—that fellow talking to another man?" he asked. "See him—there?"
"Yes!" said Zillah. She saw the man of the platinum stud again, and on seeing him, stopped dead where she was, holding Lauriston back. The man, leisurely smoking his cigar, was chatting to another man, who, from the fact that he was carrying a small suit-case in one hand and a rug over the other arm, had evidently come in by the just-arrived express. "Yes!" she continued. "That's the man! And—we've just got to follow him wherever he goes!"
"What on earth for?" asked Lauriston. "What mystery's this? Who is he?"