There were a good many passengers going northwards, a good many alighting at Ullerton; and in the hurry and confusion I had some difficulty in finding a place in a second-class carriage, the passengers therein blocking up the windows with that unamiable exclusiveness peculiar to railway travellers.

I found a place at last, however; but in hurrying from carriage to carriage I was startled by an occurrence which I have since pondered very seriously.
I ran bolt against my respected friend and patron Horatio Paget.
We had only time to recognise each other with exclamations of mutual surprise when the clanging bell rang again, and I was obliged to scuffle into my seat.

A moment's delay would have caused me to be left behind.

And to have remained behind would have been very awkward for me; as the Captain would undoubtedly have questioned me as to my business in Ullerton.

Was I not supposed to be at Dorking, enjoying the hospitality of an aged aunt?
It would have been unlucky to lose that train.
But what "makes" the gallant Captain in Ullerton?
That is a question which I deliberated as the train carried me towards Black Harbour.
Sheldon warned me of the necessity for secrecy, and I have been as secret as the grave.