Handyside took the cue.

“That’s the exact position, Miss Forbes,” he said.  “I was warned by the horrible experience of a friend of mine.  He left Newark, N. J., on a sightseeing tour of Europe, but unfortunately took his clubs with him.  Now, if you ask him what he thought of Westminster Abbey or the Wye Valley he tells you he hadn’t time to look ’em up, but that the fifth hole at Sandwich is a corker, while the thirteenth at St. Andrews has been known to restore the faculty of speech to a dumb man.  You see, some poor mute had either to express his feelings or bust.”

Evidently Miss Evelyn Forbes would not be allowed to mope during the run to Eastbourne.

As between Theydon and herself, the situation was curiously mixed.  On the one hand, Theydon had now a remarkably close insight into the peril which threatened Forbes and each member of his family; the girl, on the other, knew well that her father was bound up in some way with the tragedy at No. 17 Innesmore Mansions.

Nevertheless, an open discussion was out of the question, and the two accepted cheerfully the limitations imposed by circumstances, so that the strangers in the compartment little suspected what grave issues lay behind an apparently casual meeting between a pretty girl and two men that summer’s afternoon in the Eastbourne express.

The American played his part admirably.  When not passing some caustically humorous comment on British ways and manners he was being even more critical of his fellow-countrymen.

As he himself put it, he guessed New York society was mighty like London society with the head cut off, and proved his contention with many wise saws and modern instances.

Thus the journey south passed pleasantly enough.  When they alighted the girl reverted to the topic uppermost in her mind.

“You gentlemen will have to look after your luggage,” she said.  “I’m sure you will forgive me if I hurry to the hotel.  If you come there, Mr. Theydon, I’ll take care that I see you at once.  It is exceedingly kind of you to bother with my affairs.”

But Theydon had a scheme ready, having foreseen this very difficulty.

“Mr. Handyside will attend to everything,” he said glibly.  “Please let me come with you.  I shan’t have a moment’s peace until assured that Mrs. Forbes is suffering from little more than a slight indisposition.”

Evelyn looked puzzled, but was willing to agree to anything so long as she reached her mother quickly.  Handyside, too, made matters easy by lifting his hat and walking off in the direction of the luggage van.

“Well,” she said, “I really don’t care what happens if only I lose no time.”

Suiting the action to the word, she hurried toward the exit, and was murmuring something that sounded like an apology for her seeming brusqueness as they passed the ticket collector.  Here a momentary difficulty arose.  Theydon had forgotten to ask Handyside for his ticket.  The girl, of course, had her own ticket, but her companion was not allowed to pass the barrier.  He began an explanation to which a busy official paid no heed.  In desperation, he produced a sovereign, and his card.