"Very good, old jungle-wolf," was all the comment he vouchsafed, and, making a mental note to see that the park was barred in future to the limners of "deer like unto swine," he was passing on to further instructions when the sound of wheels was heard far away down the avenue, and a moment later carriage-lamps twinkled into view round a corner in the drive. "Here they come," he said. "Better make yourself scarce now, but stay within call in case I want you." Azimoolah vanished in the darkness, and the General strolled on to the end of the terrace, where the descent of a flight of steps brought him to the main entrance of the mansion. Stationing himself under the portico, he waited the arrival of the brougham, which presently swung to a standstill, while the big hall door was opened wide by ready hands, and shed a blaze of light on—an empty carriage. "What’s this mean, Perrett?" asked the General, outwardly calm for all the big lump in his throat, and cool enough to remember the name of the gray-haired coachman, learned on his own drive from the station. "Has not his Grace arrived?" "No, sir," replied the old servant, leaning from the box. "There has been an accident to the 8.45. No one hurt, sir. No need for alarm, for his Grace can’t have been in the train." "How do you get at that?" the General asked, doubtfully. "The train was derailed between St. Albans and Harpenden, sir. Some of the passengers were shaken, but none badly injured; so the fast train that followed was run on to the up metals and brought them on, stopping at every station. But none got out at Tarrant Road. James here," indicating the footman, "ran along the train and looked into every carriage, but he could not see the Duke." And Perrett won golden opinions from the General by adding that, not satisfied with that, he got the station-master to wire up the line to the point of the accident, and received in reply the positive assurance that no injured persons had been left behind. All had been forwarded to their destinations by the succeeding fast train, which had been made "slow" for the purpose. The General had already mastered the time-table, and knew that only one more train from London would stop at Tarrant Road that night—the last, due at a quarter past midnight. The coachman therefore received, as he had expected, orders to return to the station in time to meet that train, and the General, lighting a fresh cigar, strolled back to the terrace, where, in response to his low whistle, Azimoolah glided to his side. "There is work afoot," he said, briefly. "Canst, as of yore, do without sleep at a pinch?" "Ay, and without food if it is so willed by Allah and the sahib."