“By gad! yes. Why—why it’s a train. And it is coming towards us!” he gasped.
At that moment they passed a signal which fell, showing the line to be clear.
Both men sat silent, watching the rather dim but fast-approaching light.
Yes, assuredly it was a train which had stopped at Orbetello and was now on its way towards the north!
On it came swiftly, with a red glare showing from the furnace, until suddenly, with a bursting roar, it thundered past.
Hubert saw the two long sleeping-cars with their blinds closely drawn.
“It’s the express!” he cried, dismayed. “The Paris express! The spy has caught it—and escaped!”
Pucci said nothing. He sat silent, turning to watch the red tail-lamps as the express bore on its way and out of sight.
And until the car reached the railway station at Orbetello, theft dark and deserted, with lights turned down, no further word was uttered by either man.
Of a sleepy porter Hubert, as he dashed out of the car, made quick inquiry.