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Stevenson, Burton Egbert, 1872-1962

"The Holladay Case A Tale"


Then, in that first moment of inactivity, the fear of Martigny came
back upon me. Had he really gone to the hotel? Had he deemed us not
worth watching? Or had he watched? Was he on the train with us? Was he
able to follow? The more I thought of him, the more I doubted my
ability to deceive him.
I looked out cautiously from the window, up and down the platform, but
saw no sign of him, and in a moment more we rattled slowly away over
the switches. I sank back into my seat with a sigh of relief. Perhaps
I had really blinded him!
An hour's run brought us to Beuzeville, where we were dumped out,
together with our luggage, in a little frame station. An official
informed us that we must wait there three hours for the train for Les
Ifs. Beyond that? He could not say. We might possibly reach Etretat
next day.
"How far is Les Ifs from here?" inquired my companion.
"About twelve kilometers, monsieur."
"And from there to Etretat?"
"Is twenty kilometers more, monsieur."
"Thirty-two kilometers altogether," said Mr. Royce. "That's about
twenty miles. Why can't we drive, Lester? We ought to cover it easily
in three hours--four at the most."
Certainly it seemed better than waiting on the uncertain railway, and
we set at once about the work of finding a vehicle. I could be of
little use, since English was an unknown tongue at Beuzeville, and
even Mr.


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