He pointed to the luggage, then to the cab, and finally to the village.
"Luggage, hotel, carriage!" he suggested.
The station-master beamed all over.

With a shout, which must have reached the village, he awakened the sleeping man.

In less than five minutes the Englishman and his luggage were stored away in the carriage.
His ticket had been examined by the station-master, and smilingly accepted.

There were more bows and salutes, and the carriage drove off.
Mr.Guy Poynton leaned back amongst the mouldy leather upholstery, and smiled complacently.
"Easiest thing in the world to get on in a foreign country with a phrase book and your wits," he remarked to himself.

"Jove, I am hungry!" He drove into a village of half a dozen houses or so, which reminded him of the pictured abodes of Noah and his brethren.