‘What a funny thing!’ said the lady, with a wretchedly factitious smile.  ’The times have taken a strange turn when the angry parent of the comedy, who goes post-haste to prevent the undutiful daughter’s rash marriage, is a gentleman from below stairs, and the unworthy lover a peer of the realm!’

Neigh spoke for almost the first time.  ’I don’t blame Chickerel in objecting to Lord Mountclere.  I should object to him myself if I had a daughter.  I never liked him.’

‘Why?’ said Mrs. Doncastle, lifting her eyelids as if the act were a heavy task.

‘For reasons which don’t generally appear.’

‘Yes,’ said Mr. Doncastle, in a low tone.  ’Still, we must not believe all we hear.’

‘Is Chickerel going?’ said Neigh.

‘He leaves in five or ten minutes,’ said Doncastle.

After a few further words Neigh mentioned that he was unable to stay longer that evening, and left them.  When he had reached the outside of the door he walked a little way up the pavement and back again, as if reluctant to lose sight of the street, finally standing under a lamp-post whence he could command a view of Mr. Doncastle’s front.  Presently a man came out in a great-coat and with a small bag in his hand; Neigh at once recognizing the person as Chickerel, went up to him.

’Mr. Doncastle tells me you are going on a sudden journey.  At what time does your train leave?’ Neigh asked.

‘I go by the ten o’clock, sir:  I hope it is a third-class,’ said Chickerel; ‘though I am afraid it may not be.’

‘It is as much as you will do to get to the station,’ said Neigh, turning the face of his watch to the light.  ’Here, come into my cab—­I am driving that way.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Chickerel.

Neigh called a cab at the first opportunity, and they entered and drove along together.  Neither spoke during the journey.  When they were driving up to the station entrance Neigh looked again to see the hour.

‘You have not a minute to lose,’ he said, in repressed anxiety.  ’And your journey will be expensive:  instead of walking from Anglebury to Knollsea, you had better drive—­above all, don’t lose time.  Never mind what class the train is.  Take this from me, since the emergency is great.’  He handed something to Chickerel folded up small.

The butler took it without inquiry, and stepped out hastily.

‘I sincerely hope she—­ Well, good-night, Chickerel,’ continued Neigh, ending his words abruptly.  The cab containing him drove again towards the station-gates, leaving Chickerel standing on the kerb.

He passed through the booking-office, and looked at the paper Neigh had put into his hand.  It was a five-pound note.

Chickerel mused on the circumstance as he took his ticket and got into the train.

43.  The railway—­the sea—­the shore beyond