Three singles!  Then my instinct had told me rightly.

‘Can you describe the person?’

Mr Stone’s eyes twinkled.

’I don’t know that I can, except in a general way,—­he was uncommonly old and uncommonly ugly, and he had a pair of the most extraordinary eyes I ever saw,—­they gave me a sort of all-overish feeling when I saw them glaring at me through the pigeon hole.  But I can tell you one thing about him, he had a great bundle on his head, which he steadied with one hand, and as it bulged out in all directions it’s presence didn’t make him popular with other people who wanted tickets too.’

Undoubtedly this was our man.

‘You are sure he asked for three tickets?’

’Certain.  He said three tickets to Southampton; laid down the exact fare,—­nineteen and six—­and held up three fingers—­like that.  Three nasty looking fingers they were, with nails as long as talons.’

‘You didn’t see who were his companions?’

’I didn’t,—­I didn’t try to look.  I gave him his tickets and off he went,—­with the people grumbling at him because that bundle of his kept getting in their way.’

Bellingham touched me on the arm.

’I can tell you about the Arab of whom Mr Stone speaks.  My attention was called to him by his insisting on taking his bundle with him into the carriage,—­it was an enormous thing, he could hardly squeeze it through the door; it occupied the entire seat.  But as there weren’t as many passengers as usual, and he wouldn’t or couldn’t be made to understand that his precious bundle would be safe in the luggage van along with the rest of the luggage, and as he wasn’t the sort of person you could argue with to any advantage, I had him put into an empty compartment, bundle and all.’

‘Was he alone then?’

’I thought so at the time, he said nothing about having more than one ticket, or any companions, but just before the train started two other men—­English men—­got into his compartment; and as I came down the platform, the ticket inspector at the barrier informed me that these two men were with him, because he held tickets for the three, which, as he was a foreigner, and they seemed English, struck the inspector as odd.’

‘Could you describe the two men?’

’I couldn’t, not particularly, but the man who had charge of the barrier might.  I was at the other end of the train when they got in.  All I noticed was that one seemed to be a commonplace looking individual and that the other was dressed like a tramp, all rags and tatters, a disreputable looking object he appeared to be.’

‘That,’ I said to myself, ’was Miss Marjorie Lindon, the lovely daughter of a famous house; the wife-elect of a coming statesman.’

To Bellingham I remarked aloud: