Bulow, of Kiel, was a small, dark-eyed, clean-shaven fellow, quick and energetic in his movements, having more the appearance of a Celt than of a Teuton.  He seemed to be full of amiability, and assured the major in execrable English how very happy he was to be able to do a service to one who had shown kindness to their esteemed colleague and persecuted patriot, Von Baumser.  Indeed both of the men showed great deference to the German, and the major began to perceive that his friend was a very exalted individual in Socialistic circles.  He liked the look of the two foreigners, and congratulated himself upon having their co-operation in the matter on hand.

Ill luck was in store for the expedition, however.  On inquiry at the ticket-office they found that there was no train for upwards of two hours, and then it was a slow one which would not land them until eight o’clock at Bedsworth.  At this piece of information Tom Dimsdale fairly broke down, and stamped about the station, raving and beseeching the officials to run a special, be the cost what it might.  This, however, could by no means be done, owing to the press of Saturday traffic.  There was nothing for it but to wait.  The three foreigners went off in search of something to eat, and having found a convenient cookshop they disappeared therein and feasted royally at Von Baumser’s expense.  Major Tobias Clutterbuck remained with the young man, who resolutely refused to leave the platform.  The major knew of a snug little corner not far off where he could have put in the time very comfortably, but he could not bring himself to desert his companion even for a minute.  I have no doubt that that wait of two hours in the draughty station is marked up somewhere to the old sinner’s credit account.

Indeed, it was well that day that young Dimsdale had good friends at his back.  His appearance was so strange and wild that the passers-by turned back to have another look at him, His eyes were open and staring, giving a fear-inspiring character to his expression.  He could not sit still for an instant, but paced up and down and backwards and forwards under the influence of the fierce energy which consumed him, while the major plodded along manfully at his side, suggesting every consideration which might cheer him up, and narrating many tales, true and apocryphal, most of which fell upon heedless ears.

Ezra Girdlestone had four hours’ start of them.  That was the thought which rankled in Tom’s heart and outweighed every other consideration.  He knew Kate’s nature so well that he was convinced that she would never have expressed such fears to Mrs. Scully unless she had very assured reasons for them.  In fact, apart from her own words, what could this secrecy and seclusion mean except foul play.  After what he had learned about the insurance of the ships and the manner in which the elder Girdlestone had induced him to cease corresponding with Kate, he could believe anything of his partners.  He knew, also, that in case of Kate’s death the money reverted to her guardian.  There was not a single link missing in the chain of evidence which showed that a crime was in contemplation.  Then, who was that butcher-like man whom Ezra was taking down with him?  Tom could have torn his hair as he thought of his present impotence and of his folly in losing sight of young Girdlestone.