He was not looking for anything in particular, as far as I could
tell--just observing the signals. But it gave me a strange thrill to
think even now we were so nearly defeated.

My next trouble was--would the train draw up at Dunbar? The 10 A.M. from
King's Cross is not set down to stop there in Bradshaw, for no
passengers are booked to or from the station by the day express; but I
remembered from of old when I lived at Edinburgh, that it used always to
wait about a minute for some engine-driver's purpose. This doubt filled
me with fresh fear; did it draw up there still?--they have accelerated
the service so much of late years, and abolished so many old accustomed
stoppages. I counted the familiar stations with my breath held back.
They seemed so much farther apart than usual. Reston--Grant's
House--Cockburnspath--Innerwick.

The next was Dunbar. If we rolled past _that_, then all was lost. We
could never get married. I trembled and hugged myself.

The engine screamed. Did that mean she was running through? Oh, how I
wished I had learned the interpretation of the signals!

Then gradually, gently, we began to slow. Were we slowing to pass the
station only? No; with a jolt she drew up. My heart gave a bound as I
read the word 'Dunbar' on the station notice-board.

I rose and waited, with my fingers on the door. Happily it had one of
those new-fashioned slip-latches which open from inside. No need to
betray myself prematurely to the detective by a hand displayed on the
outer handle. I glanced out at him cautiously. His head was thrust
through his window, and his sloping shoulders revealed the spy, but he
was looking the other way--observing the signals, doubtless, to discover
why we stopped at a place not mentioned in Bradshaw.

Harold's face just showed from another window close by. Too soon or too
late might either of them be fatal. He glanced inquiry at me. I nodded
back, 'Now!' The train gave its first jerk, a faint backward jerk,
indicative of the nascent intention of starting. As it braced itself to
go on, I jumped out; so did Harold. We faced one another on the platform
without a word. 'Stand away there:' the station-master cried, in an
angry voice. The guard waved his green flag. The detective, still
absorbed on the signals, never once looked back. One second later, we
were safe at Dunbar, and he was speeding away by the express for
Edinburgh.

It gave us a breathing space of about an hour.

[Illustratio