It was after midnight when I retired to rest, but I could not sleep. I could not help thinking about this great problem of my life. How could I find Kaffar? How could I tell whether he were alive or dead? After tossing about a long time, I hit upon a plan of action, and then my mind had some little rest. The next morning I bade good-bye to my friends, and started for the station. When I arrived all was quiet. Not a single passenger was there, while the two porters were lolling lazily around, enjoying the warmth of the bright May sun. I asked to see the station-master; he was not at the station. Then I made inquiries for the booking-clerk, who presently made his appearance. I found that there was a train leaving about midnight, which travelled northward, one that had been running some years. "Were you at the booking-office on the day after New Year's Day?" I asked. "Yes, sir," replied the clerk. "Do you remember a man coming for a ticket that night who struck you as peculiar?" "What kind of a man, sir?" "A foreigner. Small, dark, and wiry, speaking with an accent something like this," I said, trying to imitate Kaffar. "No, sir, I don't remember such a person. There were only three passengers that night--I remember it very well, because my brother was here with me--and they were all Yorkshire." "This midnight train is a stopping train?" "Yes, sir. It stops at every station from Leeds." "How far is the nearest station in the Leeds direction?" "Seven miles, sir. The population is rather thin here, sir. It gets thicker the closer you get to Leeds." "And how far the other way?" "Only a matter of three miles northward, sir. There's a little village there, sir, has sprung up because of Lord ----'s mansion, sir, and the company has put up a station." "And how far is the next station beyond that?" "A long way, sir. It's a junction where some go to catch the night express to Leeds. It must be eight miles further on. The train is now due, sir, that goes there." "And it stops at the next station?" "Oh yes, sir." I booked immediately for it, and in a few minutes arrived there. It was, if possible, more quiet than the one from which I had just come; a more dreary place one could not well see. I soon found the man who had issued tickets on the night I have mentioned. Did he remember such a passenger as I described? "Yes, sir," he said, "I do remember such a chap; partly because he was the only passenger, and partly because he looked so strange. He looked as if he'd been fightin', and yet he was quite sober. He was a funny chap, sir; one as I shudd'n like much to do wi'." "And where did he book for?" "Dingledale Junction, sir." "And he would be able to catch a train from there?" "He would have to wait a quarter of an hour for the express to Leeds," replied the man. "And how long will it be before there's another train to Dingledale Junction?" I asked anxiously. "Three hours and a half, sir."