“You wished to see me, sir?” the official asked, merely glancing up from the desk at which he was sitting with a pile of papers before him. Mr. Hamilton Fynes leaned over the wooden counter which separated him from the interior of the office. Before he spoke, he glanced around as though to make sure that he had not forgotten to close the door. “I require a special train to London as quickly as possible,” he announced. “I should be glad if you could let me have one within half an hour, at any rate.” The station-master rose to his feet. “Quite impossible, sir,” he declared a little brusquely. “Absolutely out of the question!” “May I ask why it is out of the question?” Mr. Hamilton Fynes inquired. “In the first place,” the station-master answered, “a special train to London would cost you a hundred and eighty pounds, and in the second place, even if you were willing to pay that sum, it would be at least two hours before I could start you off. We could not possibly disorganize the whole of our fast traffic. The ordinary mail train leaves here at midnight with sleeping-cars.” Mr. Hamilton Fynes held out a letter which he had produced from his breast pocket, and which was, in appearance, very similar to the one which he had presented, a short time ago, to the captain of the Lusitania. “Perhaps you will kindly read this,” he said. “I am perfectly willing to pay the hundred and eighty pounds.” The station-master tore open the envelope and read the few lines contained therein. His manner underwent at once a complete change, very much as the manner of the captain of the Lusitania had done. He took the letter over to his green-shaded writing lamp, and examined the signature carefully. When he returned, he looked at Mr. Hamilton Fynes curiously. There was, however, something more than curiosity in his glance. There was also respect. “I will give this matter my personal attention at once, Mr. Fynes,” he said, lifting the flap of the counter and coming out. “Do you care to come inside and wait in my private office?” “Thank you,” Mr. Hamilton Fynes answered; “I will walk up and down the platform.” “There is a refreshment room just on the left,” the station-master remarked, ringing violently at a telephone. “I dare say we shall get you off in less than half an hour. We will do our best, at any rate. It’s an awkward time just now to command an absolutely clear line, but if we can once get you past Crewe you’ll be all right. Shall we fetch you from the refreshment room when we are ready?” “If you please,” the intending passenger answered.