"How long?" repeated the official, jerking his head backwards to get a glimpse of the Station clock. "Only ten minutes since. He came down by the express from Charing Cross. It was a few minutes late owing to the snow."
"Do you know if he had a return ticket?"
"That I can't say."
"What's the next train to London?"
"One just on the move now, sir. The next in two hours' time. Better travel by this one. The next is sure to be a slow one, this snowstorm is so heavy. Going by this one, sir?" he continued, swinging open a carriage-door as he saw my hesitation. "Only a minute to spare."
"I—I don't know yet. Hold my portmanteau for a moment."
I quickly ran the whole length of the departing train, but the grey coat was not in any of the carriages. This train was the one I should have travelled by, its departure being timed for the arrival of the Continental boat; but I now resolved to delay my journey till the next, in order to travel in company with my brother, for George must return by the latter train, otherwise he would be barely in time to meet the wedding-party in the Church at half-past nine. I returned to the porter, who was surveying me with a curiosity, the reason of which soon became evident, and said:
"I shall travel by the next train. Take charge of my portmanteau until then."
"Right you are, guv'nor! What's he done? Forgery? Murder? He looks quite capable of it."
"Done? Who?" I said, astounded at this sudden familiarity.