IN WHICH THE CATASTROPHE WHICH APPEARS ON
THE POINT OF BEING EXPLAINED, GROWS YET
MORE INEXPLICABLE
So far I have only given the simplest plan of the line that I might get
the basis of the affair as clear as possible. That plan is not quite
complete, for though there was only this one line joining the stations
A and B there was a short side-line, H I, which led to a sand-pit which
had supplied a glass-factory. But since the glass-factory had failed,
they no longer worked the sand-pit; and the side-line was practically
abandoned. Here is the complete plan:
Station A D C Station B.
x------x----x----x
/
H/
/
K/
/
I/
It will naturally be supposed that this side-line leading to the
sand-pit is going to provide the explanation, the quite simple
explanation of the disappearance of the express. But if the matter
had been as simple as the side-line would appear to make it, I should
hardly have omitted it from the first map. I could have said at once:
"It is quite clear that, owing to a train of circumstances which it
remains to determine, the express, instead of continuing to follow the
line B A, must have turned off up the side-line H I, and buried itself
in the vast mass of loose sand at the sand-pit I. Rushing along at a
speed of over sixty miles an hour, it evidently plunged into the mass
of sand, which covered it up; and that is the stupid but actual reason
of its disappearance."
But, to say nothing of the fact that this does not explain the
presence, at the point D, of the guard's-van and railway-carriage,
out of the window of which Signor Petito had stuck his head, this
explanation could not have failed to occur to the alert intelligence
of the engineers of the company. Moreover, there were points and a
switch at the point H; this switch, in accordance with the rules, was
padlocked; and the key had been taken away.
I indeed attached no importance to the fact that _the padlock was
locked_; for, it seemed to me quite probable that the key had been
left in the padlock, _which had actually been the case_, and that
Theophrastus, who had good reasons for stopping the train in order
to join Signor Petito, had profited by the presence of that key, to
shift the points. It was only a matter of thrusting over the lever of
the switch; and that would explain why the train was not seen by the
signal-man at A, since, instead of continuing along the line B A, it
had turned off up H I towards the sand-pit. I told myself all this;
and if it had explained anything, I should have stated it at once, and
instead of giving two maps I should have given merely the latter with
the side-line H I on it.
That I have not done so is owing to the fact that the side-line H I
explains nothing. I also believed at first that it was going to make
the disappearance of the express clear to us, but as a matter of fact
_it complicates the catastrophe instead of explaining it_; for here is
the story, the true story; and that too continues to explain nothing at
all.
Wandering along the road which runs beside the railway, Theophrastus
had noticed the little side-line, and seen that the key had been
left in the padlock of the switch. This fact, which had been of no
importance to him before his brief but stormy interview with Signora
Petito, assumed an enormous importance when he resolved to join, at
any cost, Signor Petito, who was in the train _which was about to
pass under his nose_. M. Longuet said to himself: "I cannot board the
express, rushing between the two stations A and B, in the usual way.
But there is a little side-line H I, the key is in the padlock of the
switch; I have only to turn the lever, and the express will dash up
H I. Since it is broad daylight the engine-driver will see what has
happened, he will stop the train, and I shall take advantage of its
stopping to board it."
Nothing could be more simple; and Theophrastus did it. He dragged over
the lever of the switch, walked up the side-line, and waited for the
express.
Theophrastus, hidden behind a tree that none of the officials on the
express might see him, awaited its coming at the point K, that is to
say, rather more than half-way up the side-line, that is to say, _on
this side of the sand-pit I_. He waited for the express coming from H,
_with his eyes on the track_. If, as everyone must have been supposing
ever since I mentioned the sand-pit, the train coming from H had
buried itself in the sand at I, Theophrastus, who was at K, between H
and I, must have seen it. But Theophrastus waited for the train and
waited for the train and waited for the train. He waited for it as
the signal-man at station A had waited for it; and he no more saw the
express than did the signal-man at A and the rest of the officials of
the line.
_The express had disappeared for M. Longuet as it had disappeared for
the rest of the world._
So much so that, tired of waiting, M. Longuet walked down as far as
H to see what was happening. There he saw the staff of A, which was
hurrying towards B in its search for the express. He asked himself
sadly what could have become of the express; and finding no answer to
the question, he walked up H I, and when he arrived at K, which he had
just left, he found the empty guard's-van and the railway-carriage
which a few minutes later the two staffs were to find at D!
Once more he swore by the throttle of Mme. Phalaris, and buried his
brow in his hands, asking himself how that guard's-van and that
carriage came to be there, since the express itself had not come. _It
had not come, since he, Theophrastus, had not quitted the track._
Suddenly he saw the head of a man waggling out of the window of the
railway-carriage; and since this head had no ears, he recognised
Signor Petito.
He sprang up into the railway-carriage, _and without troubling to let
down the window and release the head_ of the unfortunate expert in
handwriting, he stripped him of his clothes, and proceeded to put them
on. Theophrastus, who knew himself to be tracked by the police and in
whom the astuteness of Cartouche sprang to life again, was disguising
himself. When he was dressed, he made a bundle of his own clothes,
and descended from the carriage. He felt in Signor Petito's pockets,
took out his pocket-book, sat down on the embankment, and plunged into
the study of the papers it contained, hunting for the traces of his
treasures. But Signor Petito had carried to the tomb the secret of the
treasures of the Chopinettes; never again were the Gall, the Cock, the
Chopinettes, or the treasures to be discussed: with the result that
Signora Petito, who learnt a few minutes later of the extraordinary
death of her husband, presently went mad, and was confined in a lunatic
asylum for six months.
But we are only concerned with the misfortune of Theophrastus, which so
surpasses all other human misfortunes, and which is so hard to believe
that we need all the assistance that Science can give us to credit
it wholly. I cannot believe that the minds of my readers are so base,
or their imaginations so poor, that the matter of the treasures could
be of any genuine interest to them, when they are confronted by this
phenomenon, of such surpassing interest, the soul of Theophrastus.
Presently that unfortunate man, on failing to find anything of interest
to him in the papers of Signor Petito, heaved a deep sigh. He raised
his head; and lo! _the guard's-van and the railway-carriage of Signor
Petito had disappeared_!