Whatever may have been the Colonel's intentions when he caught me in
his compartment, something, and I think my last words, led him to
modify them. He felt, probably, that if he attacked me I might
retaliate unpleasantly. I ought to be able to hold my own with him,
although in truth I was not over happy at the course events had taken,
and I could not compliment myself on my good management.
I had not been overprudent; I had pressed my attentions on him rather
abruptly, although I had the excuse that I usually found them well
received, thanks to my affable address; again I had behaved most
incautiously in penetrating his identity.
And, worse than all, I had still no certainty. I could only surmise
that the lady was the one I was in search of, for I had not as yet
clapt eyes on her, and I had been to some extent driven to show my
hand before I had made my ground good. So the first thing I did on
regaining my own compartment was to ring for Jules, the conductor, and
put before him the photograph with which I was provided, and ask him
if he recognized it.
"But perfectly. It is the lady yonder," he said promptly. "Is it your
own, or did you find it or annex it from next door? Ah, your own; and
what have you to do with her?"
"I may tell you some day, Jules. For the present you must know that I
am after her; I have to watch her, stick to her like her shadow until
it is time to act."
"An adventuress, eh?"
"She is in possession of what does not belong to her; something she
abstracted from--from--Never mind where, and it must be recovered from
her here, or after she leaves the car."
"Afterwards, please. We can't have any scandal on board here."
"Five hundred francs wouldn't tempt you to let me have a free hand for
just half an hour? I could do it, say somewhere short of Basle, and on
reaching there make off. No one should be any the wiser, and they, the
women, wouldn't dare to make a fuss."
"It's I who do not dare--not for twice five hundred francs. My place
is worth more than that; and if it is a dog's life, it is better than
lying on the straw. Besides, there's her friend the Colonel, he'll be
on the alert, you may depend."
"So must I be, and I must find some way to circumvent him. I'll be
even with him. He sha'n't beat me, the overbearing, hectoring brute.
It's between him and me, and I think I'm a match for him."
I spoke this confidently to my friend, who engaged for his part to do
all in his power to assist, or at least to do nothing against me, and
I was content to bide my time. Pride goes before a fall. I was not as
clever as I thought, and shall have to tell you how seriously I had
underrated his worth in the coming trial of strength.
As the train sped on and the night began to close in on us, I remained
quietly in my berth, pondering over my position, and in considering
the course I should adopt under various contingencies. The first and
most serious danger was that the lady should succeed in leaving the
train at any of the intermediate stations at Basle, and so give me
the slip. There were Laon, Rheims, Chaumont, and the rest.
It must be my business to keep close watch against any evasion of this
kind, and Jules had promised to help. I did not look for any such
attempt until far into the night, when the stations were empty and
half-dark, and I agreed with Jules to divide the hours till daylight,
he taking the first, I the last. We were due at Basle at 5 A.M., and I
expected to join forces then with Tiler, my colleague, coming from the
side of Ostend, via Brussels and Strasburg.
Meanwhile I kept quiet and made no sign beyond showing that I was
there and on the spot ready to act if it should be necessary. Thus,
when the train slackened speed on approaching a station, I was always
on the move and the first to descend and patrol the platform. The
Colonel always got out too, but he never accosted me; indeed, he
seemed disposed to despise me, to ignore my existence, or dare me to
the worst I could do.
I suppose the lady must have been of the same mind, for when
dinner-time arrived, she came boldly out of her compartment, and I met
her face to face for the first time, on her way to the restaurant. I
was standing at the door of my compartment.
"Dinner is ready," the Colonel said to me significantly, but I did not
choose to understand, and shook my head, holding my ground.
"You are coming to dinner, I think," he repeated in a sharp commanding
way, as if he were talking to his soldiers.
"I shall please myself about that," I replied gruffly.
"Not a bit of it. One moment," he whispered to the lady, who walked
on, and turned again to me: "Now see here, my friend, I do not mean to
leave you behind. You will come to the dining-car with us, and no two
ways about it, even if I have to carry you."
"I won't dine with you," I cried.
"I never asked you to dine with me, but you shall dine when I do. I
will pay for your dinner, but I wouldn't sit at table with you for
worlds," he shouted with scornful laughter. "You're going to dine
under my eye, that's all, even though the sight of you is enough to
make one sick. So come along, sharp's the word, see? Walk first; let
him pass you, Mrs. Blair."
I felt I had no choice. He was capable of again assaulting me. There
was something in his manner that cowed me, and I was obliged in spite
of myself to give way.
There were only three of us in the dining-car, and we were not a very
merry company. Our tables were laid almost adjoining, and there was no
conversation between us, except when the Colonel asked me with
contemptuous civility what wine I preferred. He did not talk to the
lady, or the merest commonplaces, for I was within earshot. But I made
an excellent dinner, I must confess. I had eaten nothing since Amiens.
Then I got back to my berth, where the bed was made. I threw myself on
to it, rejoiced at the prospect of getting a few hours' sleep while
Jules remained on the watch.
He was to call me a little before reaching Basle, and, like an ass
that I was, I fully relied on his doing so, believing him to be my
friend. Such friendship as his did not bear any great strain, as I
learnt presently to my great chagrin.
I slept heavily, but in fitful snatches, as a man does when constantly
disturbed by the whirr and whizzing of the train, the rattle and
jangle of wheels passing over ill-jointed points. After one of the
longest periods of unconsciousness I awoke, aroused by the complete
absence of noise. The train was at a standstill in some station and
making a very protracted halt.
Something moved me to lift the blind and look out, and I saw, not
without uneasiness, that we were at Basle. I thought I recognized the
station, but I soon made out for certain the name "Basilea" (Basle),
and saw the clock with the fingers at five-thirty. People were already
on the move, work-people, the thrifty, industrious Swiss, forestalling
time, travellers in twos and threes arriving and departing by the
early train through this great junction on the frontier of
Switzerland.
Stay! What? Who are those crossing the platform hurriedly. Great
powers! Right under my eyes, a little party of four, two females, two
men accompanying them, escorting them, carrying rugs and parcels.
There could not be a shadow of doubt.
It was the lady, the so-called Mrs. Blair, in full flight, with all
her belongings, and under the care and guidance not only of the
Colonel, that of course, but also of the perfidious Jules l'Echelle.
He had sold me! All doubt of his treachery disappeared when on rushing
to the door I found I had been locked into my compartment.
I rang the electric bell frantically, again and again. I got no
answer; I threw up the window and thrust my head out, shouting for
help, but got none, only one or two sluggish porters came up and asked
what was amiss, answering stolidly, when they heard, that it was none
of their business. "They had no key, it must be a mistake. The
conductor would explain, I must wait till he came."
Presently Jules arrived, walking very leisurely from the direction of
the restaurant, and he stood right under my window with a grin on his
face and mockery in his voice.
"What's wrong? Locked in? Can't be possible? Who could have done it? I
will inquire," he said slowly and imperturbably.
"No, no; let me out first. You can do it if you choose. I believe it
was your trickery from the first. I must get out, I tell you, or they
will escape me," I cried.
"Not unlikely. I may say it is pretty certain they will. That was the
Colonel's idea; you'd better talk to him about it next time you see
him."
"And that will be never, I expect. He's not going to show up here
again."
"There you're wrong; he will be back before the train starts, you may
rely on that, and you'll be able to talk to him. We'll let you out
then," he was laughing at me, traitor that he was. "Here he comes.
We're just going on."
Now I saw my last chance of successfully performing my mission
disappearing beyond recall. I renewed my shouts and protests, but was
only laughed at for my pains. The railway officials at Basle might
have interfered, but Jules answered for me, declaring with a
significant gesture that I was in drink and that he would see to me.
I quite despaired. Already the train was moving out of the station,
when, to my intense joy, I caught sight of Ludovic Tiler, who came
down the platform running alongside us, and crying, "Falfani,
Falfani," as he recognized me.
"Don't mind me," I shouted to him. "I must go on, I can't help myself.
It's for you to take it up now. She's in the restaurant. You'll easily
know her, in a long ulster, with her maid and the child. You can't
miss her. By the Lord, she is standing at the door! Get away with
you, don't let her see you talking with me. She must not know we are
acting in common, and I do hope she hasn't noticed. Be off, I tell
you, only let me hear of you; wire to Lucerne what you're doing.
Address telegraph-office. Send me a second message at Goeschenen. I
shall get one or both. Say where I may answer and where I can join
you."