nt he seemed
to meditate some spirited answer. Then apparently he thought better of
it, and slouching after me up the platform, possessed himself of the
larger and heavier of my two bags, which I had carefully left for him.

The trap proved to be a ramshackle affair with an ill-kept but
powerful-looking horse between the shafts. I climbed up, and as I took
my seat I observed to my companion that I wished first of all to call
at the post-office.

"I dunno nothin' 'bout that," he grunted, flicking his whip. "My
orders was to drive you to Warren's Copse."

"I don't care in the least what your orders were," I answered. "You
can either go to the post-office or else you can go to the Devil.
There are plenty of other traps in Tilbury."

He was evidently unused to this crisp style of dialogue, for after
glaring at me for a moment in a sort of apoplectic amazement he jerked
his horse round and proceeded slowly down the street.

"'Ave it yer own way," he muttered.

"I intend to," I said cheerfully.

We pulled up at the post-office, a large red-brick building in the
main street, and leaving my disgruntled friend sitting in the trap,
I jumped out and pushed open the swing door. Except for an
intelligent-looking clerk behind the counter the place was empty.

"Good-morning," I said. "I wonder if you could help me out of a slight
difficulty about my letters?"

"What sort of a difficulty?" he inquired civilly.

"Well, for the next week or two," I said, "I shall be living in a
little hut on the marshes about two miles to the east from here, and
quite close to the sea-wall. I am making a few chemical experiments in
connection with photography" (a most useful lie this), "and I've told
my friends to write or send telegrams here--to the post-office. I
wondered, if anything should come for me, whether you had a special
messenger or any one who could bring it over. I would be delighted to
pay him his proper fee and give him something extra for his trouble.
My name is Nicholson--Mr. James Nicholson."

The man hesitated for a moment. "I don't think there will be any
difficulty about that--not if you leave written instructions. I shall
have to ask the postmaster when he comes in, but I'm pretty certain it
will be all right."

I thanked him, and after writing out exactly what I wanted done, I
returned to my friend in the trap, who, to judge from his expression,
did not appear to have benefited appreciably from my little lesson in