‘Step this way.’
We stepped that way,—into a snug enough office, of which one of the railway inspectors was apparently in charge. He was a big man, with a fair beard. He looked me up and down, as if doubtfully. Lessingham he recognised at once. He took off his cap to him.
‘Mr Lessingham, I believe?’
‘I am Mr Lessingham. Have you any news for me?’
I fancy, by his looks,—that the official was struck by the pallor of the speaker’s face,—and by his tremulous voice.
‘I am instructed to give certain information to a Mr Augustus Champnell.’
‘I am Mr Champnell. What’s your information?’
‘With reference to the Arab about whom you have been making inquiries. A foreigner, dressed like an Arab, with a great bundle on his head, took two single thirds for Hull by the midnight express.’
‘Was he alone?’
‘It is believed that he was accompanied by a young man of very disreputable appearance. They were not together at the booking-office, but they had been seen together previously. A minute or so after the Arab had entered the train this young man got into the same compartment—they were in the front waggon.’