We got into the same big grey car, with Stumm's servant sitting beside the chauffeur.

It was a morning of hard frost, the bare fields were white with rime, and the fir-trees powdered like a wedding-cake.

We took a different road from the night before, and after a run of half a dozen miles came to a little town with a big railway station.

It was a junction on some main line, and after five minutes' waiting we found our train.

Once again we were alone in the carriage.