Thereupon he seated himself with his back to the wall and his face to the door, and finding an English newspaper on the table, read it until they reached the docks.

Arrived there, he exchanged a civil good-night with the captain, and handed a sovereign to the seaman who held his bag while he disembarked.
For several minutes after he had stepped on to the wooden platform, Mr.
Hamilton Fynes showed no particular impatience to continue his journey.
He stood in the shadow of one of the sheds, looking about him with quick furtive glances, as though anxious to assure himself that there was no one around who was taking a noticeable interest in his movements.

Having satisfied himself at length upon this point, he made his way to the London and North Western Railway Station, and knocked at the door of the station-master's office.

The station-master was busy, and although Mr.Hamilton Fynes had the appearance of a perfectly respectable transatlantic man of business, there was nothing about his personality remarkably striking,--nothing, at any rate, to inspire an unusual amount of respect.
"You wished to see me, sir ?" the official asked, merely glancing up from the desk at which he was sitting with a pile of papers before him.
Mr.Hamilton Fynes leaned over the wooden counter which separated him from the interior of the office.

Before he spoke, he glanced around as though to make sure that he had not forgotten to close the door.
"I require a special train to London as quickly as possible," he announced.