“An express train to Scotland—Edinburgh,” replied the lady. “I made out, on arrival at Hull, that if I motored across country I would get a train at some station on the Great Northern line—a morning express. Doncaster, Selby, York—which is nearest from wherever we are!”
“This is Howden,” said Allerdyke, looking up at the great tower of the old church. “And your best plan is to follow this road to Selby, and then to York. All the London expresses stop there, but they don’t all stop at Selby or at Doncaster. And there’s no road bridge over the Ouse nearer than Selby in any case.”
“Many thanks,” responded the lady. “Then,” she went on, looking at her driver, “you will go on to York—that is—how far?” she added, favouring Allerdyke with a gracious smile. “Very far?”
“Less than an hour’s run,” answered Gaffney for his master. “And a good road.”
The lady bowed; Allerdyke once more raised his cap; the two cars parted company. And Allerdyke stopped Gaffney as he was driving off again, and produced the provisions.
“Half-past two,” he remarked, pulling out his watch. “You’ve come along in good style, Gaffney. We’ll have something to eat and drink. Queer thing, eh, for anybody to motor across from Hull to catch a Great Northern express on the main line!”
“Mayn’t be any trains out of Hull during the night, sir,” answered Gaffney, taking a handful of sandwiches. “They’ll get one at York, anyway. Want to reach Hull at any particular time, sir?”
“No,” answered Allerdyke. “Go along as you’ve come. You’ll have a bit of uphill work over the edge of the Wolds, now. When we strike Hull, go to the Station Hotel.”
He went to sleep again as soon as they moved out of Howden, and he only awoke when the car stopped at the hotel door in Hull. A night-porter, hearing the buzz of the engine, came out.
“Put the car in the garage, Gaffney, and then get yourself a bed and lie as long as you like,” said Allerdyke. “I’ll let you know when I want you.” He turned to the night-porter. “You’ve a Mr. James Allerdyke stopping here I think?” he went on. “He’d come in last night from the Christiania steamer.”
The night-porter led the way into the hotel, and towards the office.
“Mr. Marshall Allerdyke?” he asked of the new arrival. “The gentleman left a card for you; I was asked to give it to you as soon as you came.”
Allerdyke took the visiting-card which the man produced from a letter rack, and read the lines hastily scribbled on the back—
If you land here during the night, come straight up to my room—263—and rouse me out. Want to see you at once.—J.A.
Allerdyke slipped the card into his pocket and turned to the night-porter.
“My cousin wants me to go up to his room at once,” he said. “Just show me the way. Do you happen to know what time he got in last night?” he continued, as they went upstairs. “Was it late?”