“Where from, sir?” inquired the man, reaching out his hand for Bob and Nellie’s tickets. “Far up the line, sir?”
“No, only from Guildford,” replied the Captain. “That’s only half-way from London; but there’s half-a-sovereign, and you may keep the change for yourself.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the collector, touching his cap again and taking the coin. He still lingered, however, as if wanting something more but hesitated to ask for it.
“Well?” ejaculated the Captain impatiently. “What is it, my man?”
“Your ticket, sir,” said the man deferentially. “You forgot to give it me, sir.”
“Zounds!” cried the other, blinking away furiously and moving his eyebrows up and down as he searched vainly in all his pockets, finally discovering that he held the missing ticket in his fist all the while! “I declare I forgot all about it. You see I was ready for you, though, eh?”
“All right, sir, good-day,” said the man, receiving the ticket and shutting the carriage-door gently, with a bow and a smile and another touch of his cap; and, the next moment, with another sharp unearthly shriek of the steam-whistle similar to that which had heralded its entrance into Havant station, the train, giving a joggle and a jerk as it got under way, was speeding along again, across the rattling bridges that spanned the moats of the fortifications and through the Portsea lines, to the terminus beyond at Landport.
“Here we are, children,” exclaimed the Captain, on its pulling up at the journey’s end. “Here we are at last!”
“And is this Portsmouth?” inquired Nellie. But, she need not have asked the question; for, as she looked down the platform she cried out excitedly in the same breath—“Why, there’s aunt Polly! There’s aunt Polly!”
“Let me look, let me look,” said Bob, trying to squeeze in between Nellie and the Captain, who was fumbling at the handle of the door, endeavouring to open it. “I can’t see her, Nell! Where is she?”