He shaded his eyes for a moment, then called to me to
stop. I swore under my breath.
"Where are you going at such a pace and at this time of morning?" he
demanded.
"To the station. I beg of you not to delay me. I am in a great hurry
to catch the 3:20 south-bound train. If you doubt me, come to the
station with me." An inspiration came to me. "Please see," I added
impressively, "that no one hinders me. I am on the King's business."
"His Majesty's business? Ach! since when has His Majesty chosen an
Englishman to dispatch his affairs? I will proceed with you to the
station."
And he kept his word. When he saw the gateman examine my ticket and
passports and smile pleasantly, he turned on his heel, convinced that
there was nothing dangerous about me. He climbed on his horse and
galloped away. He might have caused me no end of delay, and time meant
everything in a case like mine. Scarcely had I secured a compartment
in a first-class carriage than the wheels groaned and the train rolled
out of the station. My brow was damp; my hands trembled like an
excited woman's.
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