Slowly the saloon was backed out of the station again on to a neglected siding, a sort of backwater for spare carriages and empty trucks,--an ignominious resting place, indeed, after its splendid journey through the night.

The doors at both ends were closed and two policemen placed on duty to guard them.

The doctor and the station-master seated themselves out of sight of their gruesome companion, and the station-master told all that he knew about the despatch of the special and the man who had ordered it.

The attendant, who still moved about like a man in a dream, brought them some brandy and soda and served them with shaking hand.

They all three talked together in whispers, the attendant telling them the few incidents of the journey down, which, except for the dead man's nervous desire for solitude, seemed to possess very little significance.