For the first time since his successful appearance he became loquacious,
and spoke so freely of incidents in the life of the man he was
impersonating that the ex-pilot sat in a perfect fever lest he should
blunder. The meal finished, he proposed a stroll, and, as the
unsuspecting Mrs. Pepper tied on her bonnet, slapped his leg, and winked
confidently at his fellow-conspirator.
"I'm not much of a walker," said the innocent Mrs. Pepper, "so you must
go slowly."
The captain nodded, and at Pepper's suggestion left by the back way, to
avoid the gaze of the curious.
For some time after their departure Pepper sat smoking, with his anxious
face turned to the clock, until at length, unable to endure the strain
any longer, and not without a sportsmanlike idea of being in at the
death, he made his way to the station, and placed himself behind a
convenient coal-truck.
He waited impatiently, with his eyes fixed on the road up which he
expected the captain to come. He looked at his watch. Five minutes to
eight, and still no captain. The platform began to fill, a porter seized
the big bell and rang it lustily; in the distance a patch of white smoke
showed. Just as the watcher had given up all hope, the figure of the
captain came in sight. He was swaying from side to side, holding his hat
in his hand, but doggedly racing the train to the station.
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