"I was watching her in the glass last night as he was talking to her while you and I and daddy were chatting in the corner. Idon't know what he said to her, but she glanced over her shoulder with a look of terror in her eyes. I was watching her face in the glass. She looked positively hunted!"The taxi stopped. Desmond jumped out and helped his companion to alight.
"Au revoir." she said to him, "never fear, you and I will meet very soon again!"With that she was gone. Desmond looked at his watch. It pointed to a quarter to six.
"Now I wonder what time the leave-train starts tonight," he said aloud, one foot on the sideboard of the taxi.
"At 7.45, sir," said a voice.
"Desmond glanced round him. Then he saw it was the taxi-driver who had spoken.
"7.45, eh?" said Desmond. "From Victoria, I suppose?""Yes, sir," said the taxi-man.
By Jove, I haven't much time," ejaculated the officer "and there are some things I want to get before I go back across the Channel. And I shall have to see the Railway Transport Officer about my pass.""That's all right, sir," said the taxi-man, "I have your papers here"; he handed Desmond a couple of slips of paper which he took from his coat-pocket; "those will take yon back to France all right, I think you'll find!"Desmond looked at the papers: they were quite in order and correctly filled up with his name, rank and regiment, and date.
The taxi-man cut short any further question by saying:
"If you'll get into the cab again, sir, I'll drive you where you want to go, and then wait while you have your dinner and take you to the station. By the way, your dinner's ordered too!""But who the devil are you?" asked Desmond in amazement.
"On special service, the same as yon, sir!" said the man with a grin and Desmond understood.
Really, the Chief was extremely thorough.
They went to the stores in the Haymarket, to Fortnum and Mason's, and lastly, to a small, grubby shop at the back of Mayfair where Desmond and his brother had bought their cigarettes for years past. Desmond purchased a hundred of their favored brand, the Dionysus, as a reserve for his journey back to France, and stood chatting over old times with the fat, oily-faced Greek manager as the latter tied up his cigarettes into a clean white paper parcel, neatly sealed up with red sealing wax.
Then Desmond drove back to the Nineveh Hotel where he left his taxi-driving colleague in the courtyard on the understanding that at 7.25 the taxi would be waiting to drive him to the station.
Desmond went straight upstairs to his room to put his kit together. In the strong, firmly woven web spread by the Chief, he felt as helpless as a fly caught in a spider's mesh. He had no idea of what his plans were. He only knew that he was going back to France, and that it was his business to get on the leave-boat that night.
As he passed along the thickly carpeted, silent corridor to his room, he saw the door of Strangwise's room standing ajar. He pushed open the door and walked in unceremoniously. A suitcase stood open on the floor with Strangwise bending over it. At his elbow was a table crowded with various parcels, a case of razors, different articles of kit, and some books. Desmond halted at the door, his box of cigarettes dangling from his finger.
"Hullo, Maurice," he said, "are you off, too?"Strangwise spun round sharply. The blood had fished to his face, staining it with a dark, angry flush.
"My God, how you startled me!" he exclaimed rather testily. "Inever heard you come in!"
He turned rather abruptly and went on with his packing. He struck Desmond as being rather annoyed at the intrusion; the latter had never seen him out of temper before.
