Colonel Lysander Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I should think, from the rate that we seemed to go, and from the time that we took, that it must have been nearer twelve.

He sat at my side in silence all the time, and I was aware, more than once when I glanced in his direction, that he was looking at me with great intensity.

The country roads seem to be not very good in that part of the world, for we lurched and jolted terribly.

I tried to look out of the windows to see something of where we were, but they were made of frosted glass, and I could make out nothing save the occasional bright blur of a passing light.

Now and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the journey, but the colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the conversation soon flagged.