My rug I left in the station-master's office, and with the dispatch-box in my hand I climbed the steps from the station, and turned into the long straight road which led to Braster.

I had barely gone a hundred yards when a small motor brougham, with blazing lights and insistent horn, came flying past me and on into the darkness.

I caught a momentary glimpse of Mrs.Smith-Lessing's pale face as the car flashed by, a weird little silhouette, come and gone in a second.

Away ahead I saw the mud and rain from the pools fly up into the air in a constant stream caught in the broad white glare of the brilliant search-lamps.

Then the car turned a corner and vanished.
I was tired, yet I found the change from the close railway carriage, and the tension of the last few hours, delightful.