Just as I was about to enter it, Rayne took me by the arm, and walking along the platform out of hearing, whispered:
“Vincent is here. Don’t recognize him. Be alert at three o’clock. I may want you!”
“For what?”
“Wait! We’ve something big in progress, George. Don’t ask any questions,” he said in that blustering impelling manner which he assumed when he was really serious.
Several times in the corridor I met the financier and his wife with their bony-faced valet, and, of course, I made myself polite and engaging to Mrs. Blumenfeld.
While the express roared through its first stage to Moret, I chatted with Rudolph and Blumenfeld after the latter’s wife had retired, and as we sat in the dim light of the corridor of the sleeping-car smoking cigarettes, all seemed absolutely normal.
Suddenly from the end compartment of the car Duperré came forth. As a perfect stranger he apologized in French as he passed us and walked to the little compartment at the end of the car where he ordered a drink from the conductor.
Hence old Mr. Blumenfeld was in ignorance that Vincent had any knowledge of us, or that Signorina Lacava, who was another of the passengers, was our friend. Yet the thin-faced valet who had brought up my early cup of tea when we had stayed at Bradbourne continually hovered about his master.
Later, as the express was tearing on at increased speed, Mr. Blumenfeld retired to his compartment, with his wife sleeping in the adjoining one, and within half an hour Rayne beckoned me into his compartment at the farther end, where we were joined by Duperré.
“I want you to be out in the corridor at three o’clock,” Rayne said to me. “Open the window and sit by it as though you want fresh air. The conductor won’t trouble you as he’ll be put to sleep. After the train leaves Mâcon, Vincent will pass you something. You will watch for three white lights set in a row beside the railway line. Tracy will be down there in waiting. When you see the three lights throw out what Vincent gives to you. Understand?”