“Ah, here is the station,” said he. “The train should now be almost due.”
“Train for London, sir?” said the porter. “Gone ten minutes ago. No, sir, no more trains tonight.”
“Peste!” cried the Marquis. “Ah, well, my friend, we must look for some lodging for the night.”
“But perhaps we might catch a train at another station,” I suggested.
Yes, by driving ten miles we could just catch an express.
“Bravo!” said the Marquis. “You are full of ideas, my dear d'Haricot.”
“And you?” I said to myself, with a shrug.
We arrived just in time, and on the platform were joined by our driver.
“Let me introduce Mr. Hankey,” said the Marquis.
So this was the elusive Hankey. Well, I shall not take the trouble to describe him. Imagine a scoundrel, and you have his portrait. I was thankful he did not travel in the same compartment with us, but evidently regarded himself as in an inferior position.