The gentleman turned slowly without a start. "Ah, you're the man I want
to see," said he. "Was that the Chief Warder in the dock?"
"Him with the beard," said the attendant, nodding.
"Well, give him this, and give it him quick. I'll wait up there till he
can see me."
And he pressed his card into the attendant's palm, with a couple of
sovereigns underneath.
"Wants to see the Chief Warder," explained the attendant to the
constable at the door.
"He's been here all the week," mused the constable aloud. "I wonder who
he is?"
"Name of Steel," whispered the other, consulting the card, as the
gentleman advanced up the steps toward them, the gaslight gleaming in
his silver hair, and throwing his firm features into strong relief.
"And not a bad name for him," said the constable at the door.
CHAPTER IV
THE MAN IN THE TRAIN
Rachel fought her weakness with closed eyes, and was complete mistress
of herself when those about her thought that consciousness alone was
returning. She recognized the chamber at a glance; it was the one in
which generations of metropolitan malefactors, and a few innocent
persons like herself, had waited for the verdict of life or death.
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