The other laughed airily, and gaining the quay, set off with the silent old man by his side. At first the captain went listlessly enough, but as he got farther and farther from the ship all the feelings of the hunted animal awoke within him, and he was as eager to escape as Tillotson could have wished.
“Where are we going?” he inquired as they came in sight of the railway station. “I’m not going by train.”
“London,” said Tillotson. “That’s the most likely place to get lost in.”
“I’m not going in the train,” said the other doggedly.
“Why not?” said Tillotson in surprise.
“When they come back to the ship and find me gone they’ll telegraph to London,” said the old man. “I won’t be caught like a rat in a trap.”
“What are you going to do, then?” inquired the perplexed Tillotson.
“I don’t know,” said the old man. “Walk, I think. It’s dark, and we might get twenty miles away before daybreak.”
“Yes, we might,” said Tillotson, who had no fancy for a nocturnal pilgrimage of the kind; “but we’re not going to.”
“Let me go alone,” said the old man.