the usual contingent of comfortable middle-aged
citizens, and the hour's journey passed without incident. It was a
stopping train, and the passengers descended in great numbers at the
nearer suburbs, and in scattered units once the hour's limit had
passed. Lessing counted six men besides himself who descended at
Evershaw, one old, three middle-aged, a young man in seedy brown
overcoat, and a workman carrying a bag of tools. They looked one and
all reassuringly English and commonplace, and Lessing heaved a sigh of
relief. For once he had really escaped the scent! He hurried through
the booking office, to find himself confronted by the collection of
somewhat broken-down looking gigs and pony carts to be seen at most
country stations. There was no sign of Lessing's luxurious car, only
a powerful-looking mud-bespattered taxi, beside which stood a man in
leather gaiters and a driving-coat. He touched his cap as Lessing
approached, saying in an interrogative tone:

"Beg pardon, sir--Mr Lessing?"

"Yes."

"I have instructions to meet you, sir. From the Moat."

"Right," said Lessing, and handed over his bag. He realised at once
that Blakeney had probably wired for his own car to meet him some
distance down the line; and he seated himself in the capacious tonneau
of the taxi with an agreeable rising of spirits. The little station
was gay with spring flowers, and the scent of wallflowers floated
refreshingly on the cool clean breeze. Lessing stretched his tired
limbs, and drew a deep, grateful breath. He was just in the mood for
a spin through country lanes, and for once was tempted to wish that
the Moat was situated at a greater distance from the station. Then in
a moment his mood changed, and a cloud of anxiety descended. Already
the car had made its first movement forward, when the man with the
brown coat sprang to the front, and leaped to the seat beside the
chauffeur. Scrambling, clutching, he righted himself, steadied his
hat on his head, and pressed a tentative touch on a side pocket, and
all the time the driver vouchsafed not one glance, but devoted himself
to his wheel, as quietly as if it were an everyday occurrence to be
boarded at the last moment by an uninvited "fare." There was
something in that stolidity which chilled the blood in Lessing's
veins, for it seemed to infer that the incident was _expected_; that
the man in th