“Tell the ladies,” with an emphasis on the word, “the provost says they can go on. The train leaves in fifteen minutes. They will find their baggage at the station. Here are their keys.”
“You see it is vell tat te shentlemen tit not vait vor bermission,” said the German as we hurried into our wraps.
We heard afterward that following our departure a sergeant-at-arms called for the “shentlemen.” Our train was late coming in. As we stood on the platform waiting we saw that wretched little Jew boy fooling around and watching us. We pretended not to see him. Suddenly I felt a tremor in Milicent’s arm which was linked in mine.
“Do you see who is on the platform talking with the little Jew boy? No, don’t turn your head—don’t look suddenly—don’t look at all. It is the provost’s deputy who didn’t believe in us yesterday.”
Oh, if the train would only come, and we were on it and gone! As it rolled up beside the platform we had to restrain ourselves from getting on it too eagerly. But we were at last in our seats; the whistle blew, and the train moved out of the station.
The station was behind us, out of sight, and we were leaning back enjoying ourselves, when Milicent glanced behind her. I was looking out of the window when I felt her hand on my arm.
“Don’t look suddenly. But when you can, glance behind us.”
Three seats behind us sat the provost’s deputy. He was reading a paper, or, rather, watching us over a paper which he held up before him. He kept us under close observation the whole way. We had no opportunity to consult about the difficulties of the situation, but we felt that we were to elude our shadow in Baltimore or not at all. Carriages stood thick around the depot. Drivers were cracking their whips and importuning the public for patronage. We stepped off the platform into the midst of them, got to haggling about prices, and found ourselves mixed up in a lot of carriages, the yelling and screaming drivers having closed up behind us around the platform to which they had turned their attention. There we saw the deputy’s hat revolving rapidly, as if he were turning himself about to catch sight of us. Chance stood our friend. We happened to stand between two carriages, the doors of which hung open. A party of two ladies stepped into one. Instantly we took the other.
“Drive fast to No. — Charles Street,” Milicent said to the driver. Several carriages rolled out of the depot with our own, and before we reached Mrs. Harris’s we felt that we had escaped the deputy. Once with mother and Bobby we forgot him.