WITHIN A HAIRSBREADTH
Major Borsch stood gloating over me as I read the telegram. "Well, what
do you think of your friend the Baron, now?" he sneered.
He expected me to be completely crushed, so I shook off my first
feeling of dismay and looked up with a bland smile. "I'm much obliged
to you for showing it to me," I replied, as if it were the merest
trifle. I must have done it pretty well, for even Nessa, who had been
overwhelmed by the news, was surprised and pulled herself together.
"Perhaps you'll also be obliged for what will follow," he roared,
aggravated by my coolness.
"What an exceedingly unpleasant person this is," I said to Nessa. "I'm
sorry he can't behave himself; but you must try not to let it worry
you. I suppose he can't help it."
"He doesn't worry me in the least, thank you," she replied
contemptuously.
"You hold your tongue, you baggage," he shouted, turning on her.
"Major Borsch!" I cried, rising.
"Sit down, you infernal swinehound! And as for you, you----"
The sentence was not finished. My temper flew out of the window. If I
was to be charged with murder, a little extra such as a smack on the
mouth of even a major wouldn't make much difference, so I gave him one,
and put enough behind it to knock him down.
An involuntary scream from Nessa was drowned in his yells for his men;
and two of them rushed in and seized me. He didn't get up until I was
thus rendered helpless and then kept far enough away, pouring out a
torrent of cursing abuse while he staunched the blood on his cut lips.
Captain Brulen arrived in the middle of it, with Freibach close on his
heels; and the bully declared I had tried to murder him in order to
escape. It was such a palpable absurdity that Freibach turned his face
away to smile.
"This man was insulting the lady in my charge and I struck him, Captain
Brulen," I explained. "You probably know him well enough to understand
it is just what he would do."
"It is a very grave position," he replied. "Very grave indeed."
"You mean because of that telegram? Nonsense. It's a palpable forgery."
The major burst out into raucous laughter. "Forgery! Forgery, is it?
Well, forgery or no forgery, you'll answer for that attack on me.
Search him, and if he resists knock him on the head," he ordered the
two soldiers.
"Is this man the senior officer on the train, Captain Brulen?"
"Hold your insolent tongue; and, Captain Brulen, stay where you are. Do
as I told you," he ordered the men.
It would have been madness to resist. There was nothing on me of any
consequence; and as Nessa was sitting on the suit case with her dress
entirely covering it, nothing of importance was found, except the
passports and our tickets. These the bully promptly pocketed.
"Can I speak to you a moment, Major?" said Brulen then.
"No. Mind your own business. This is my affair, not yours."
"Very good, sir," and with that he and Freibach went away. Both looked
very disturbed, although for quite different reasons, as I knew.
"Take the man to the other end of the carriage; see that the two
prisoners have no chance of speaking to each other; remain between them
in the middle until we reach Osnabrueck, and if any attempt is made to
escape, use your bayonets. You're answerable for them."
"I'm going to sleep," said Nessa as the brute was leaving the carriage;
and she put her legs up on the seat with excellently acted unconcern.
"Good idea, so will I," and I threw myself full length on the seat.
"Silence," roared the brute. "If they speak, club them both," and with
this amiable command to our guards he left us.
The men would in all probability have obeyed him to the letter, so we
prudently gave them no occasion.
Except for the desire to try and reassure Nessa, there was nothing to
be said. The disastrous telegram had ruined everything. What did it
mean? It didn't seem possible that von Gratzen could have sent such a
message. It was too blunt, too crude, and altogether too brutal a thing
to fit with all I had seen of him. He was wily enough in all truth, but
such a method was so lacking in finesse, so devoid of cunning, that I
could not believe it had really come from him.
It was possible that he had been infuriated at discovering I had stolen
the passports; but even then he would have resorted to some far more
adroit means of arresting me. There was another consideration, too. It
was not in accord with his plans to denounce me as the murderer in this
fashion. His object was not to have me accused, but to catch von
Erstein in the web so subtly woven.
At the same time it must have been sent by some one having high
authority, because the train had been stopped in order that it might be
delivered to the guard. The police could have done it. The detective at
the station had probably reported my flight, and, if von Erstein had
already accused me to them, they might resort to such a means to have
me arrested. But in that case the message would not have been sent in
von Gratzen's name. That killed that theory therefore.
There was only one alternative suggestion--that the telegram was a
forgery and that von Erstein had ventured to use von Gratzen's name,
relying upon his influence to get him out of trouble for it. He had
guessed I was going to bolt, and he would have little difficulty in
finding out where I had gone; I might even have been followed to the
station without knowing it; and it was just such a step as would appeal
to his cunning vindictive nature.
The truth would soon be out, as a few minutes would see us at Osnabrueck
at the pace we were rushing through the night; and until we reached
there, nothing could be done. Despite the mysterious telegram I still
had faith in von Gratzen's concluding assurance--"Whatever happens I'll
stand by you, my boy."
All the same it was a deplorable business, especially for Nessa; and
that worried me desperately. We were both sure to be locked up; and
Germany is one of those insalubrious countries where it's very
difficult to get out of gaol when once the doors have closed on you.
Even if the thing were explained at Osnabrueck, it would be impossible
for her to continue her journey that night; and when she would be able
to do so, Heaven alone knew.
It was such a devil of a mess that no amount of wit-racking suggested a
way out which did not involve a heap of delay and trouble. But the knot
was cut nevertheless, in the most unexpected fashion.
We were nearing Osnabrueck, running at some thirty or forty miles an
hour, when the engine whistled furiously, and we were far enough in the
front of the train to feel the grinding of the brakes quickly applied.
Before they could do much to reduce the speed, however, there was a
tremendous crash, the heavy carriage collapsed like a card house, the
lights were extinguished, and the coach rocked a moment, seemed to rear
right up, and then toppled over on its side.
I was flung half a dozen ways at once; against the opposite side of the
compartment, then back again and next down, so that I lay sprawling
across the door. Something hit me a smack on the head and something
else came floundering down on top of me, amid a shower of splintered
glass and other fragments.
The "something else" turned out to be Nessa as I discovered when I
called out to her in deadly fear that she had been killed. Thank Heaven
we were both unhurt, save for the few bruises and slight cuts caused by
the shuttlecock shaking we had experienced.
We owed our escape to the fact that we had been lying with our legs up.
The result to our two guards showed that. They had been pinned down and
lay groaning and moaning piteously in desperate agony.
Nessa was too overwhelmed by the shock to be able to move for a time.
But she was awfully brave; not a cry had escaped her lips; and although
she was trembling so that she could scarcely speak, she assured me she
was not hurt in the least. "I shall be all right in a moment, Jack. I'm
not hurt. I was afraid you were killed," she stammered.
It was then I found that the first something which had hit me was my
suit case; and never was anything more welcome. There was a flask of
brandy in it and a flash lamp, and I managed to get them both. The
spirit soon revived us, and I flashed the light round the compartment
and took my bearings.
It was a gruesome sight. The two unfortunate soldiers were unconscious;
fearfully injured, bleeding terribly, and in such a mess as made one
think of the trenches. The carriage lay on its side and the corridor
over our heads. That offered the only way of escape, and to reach it I
had to stand on the men's bodies. By this means I succeeded in getting
a grip on the side of the doorway opening into the corridor. I pulled
myself up and scrambled through the opening. Everything was smashed to
splinters; there was an ominous smell of gas; part of the train was
already on fire, the flames lighting up the weirdly awful scene; and
the wind was blowing them right down on our carriage. There wasn't a
second to lose if we were not to be roasted alive.
Lying at full length to get a purchase for my feet among some of the
wreckage, I leant down to help Nessa out.
She kept her head splendidly. She had presence of mind to remember the
suit case, handed it up to me, caught my hand, and I swung her up
beside me. It was touch and go even then, for the flames leapt the
intervening space at that moment and a flare of gas soon set everything
in a blaze.
We had still to get off the carriage, and, although people were
hurrying up with assistance, there was no time to wait for them.
Crawling over the wreckage to a spot where the side of the carriage had
been shattered, I threw the suit case out, sprang after it, and held
out my arms, calling to Nessa to jump. She did it without a second's
hesitation, falling right on top of me with sufficient suddenness and
force to send us both sprawling to the ground.
We were up again in a moment. Nessa laughed strangely and hysterically.
"I'm all right, Jack," she cried breathlessly. "Mind the suit case;"
and then clutched me convulsively and fainted.
It wasn't surprising, considering that we had had so narrow a squeak
for it, and I could estimate the effect upon her by my own general
shakiness. What amazed me was that in such a crisis, when death had
been a matter of seconds almost, she had seemed to think more about
that blessed suit case than her own safety. But she told me the reason
afterwards; and of course it was on my account.
I wasn't sorry she fainted. The whole scene was so painful and
horrible, that it was a mercy she was spared the sight and smell and
sounds of it. Then again it helped to rally me, as I had to see to her.
I picked her up and carried her right away to a distance where neither
sight nor sound of the disaster was likely to be too obtrusively
harrowing, found a shed, and gave her some brandy, and had a swig of it
myself.
She soon came round, but was much too overcome by the shock to be moved
for a long time, or even to talk. So I let her lie where she was,
wrapped her up in some of the clothes in the suit case, lit a
cigarette, and set to work to think what our next move had better be.
It wasn't the easiest of problems. There was no chance of getting
across the frontier that night, for we had neither tickets nor
passports. That bully of a major had kept them. What had happened to
him in the smash couldn't be even guessed, of course; but whatever it
might be, there was no recovering our papers. That was a certainty.
Could any others be got? Not at Osnabrueck. That telegram had been sent
to the guard of the doomed train and, if he was alive, he would
undoubtedly inform the police; and the instant I turned up as Lassen,
we should both be clapped into gaol.
It looked as if it would be extremely unhealthy to attempt to ask for
any message from von Gratzen. A very aggravating poser. It was galling
to think that a message might be waiting which would clear the road for
us effectually, and yet be unable to go for it.
There was the unpleasant contingency that it might not be there,
moreover; in which case I should have to put my head in the lion's
mouth, with a great probability of the jaws closing on it. A very
awkward risk. It didn't affect me so much as Nessa. Even if the police
held me in custody as a suspected murderer, it would only be a
temporary trouble. But Nessa? What would happen to her it was
impossible to foresee; so I ruled out that course.
If we were to get out of the country it must be done under strictly
unofficial patronage. Our own. The less we bothered von Gratzen or any
one else, the better. That meant going on in our disguises; and then I
realized how invaluable Nessa's thought of the suit case had been.
It wasn't a particularly cheerful outlook; but there was one big thing
in our favour. Our carriage had been burnt; scarcely any one had been
on the spot at the time; certainly no one who could possibly recognize
us; and the conclusion every one would draw was that we had perished in
the flames. That was another virtual certainty; but in our favour.
There was more than enough on the other side of the ledger, however. I
had no identification card; Nessa was in rather a bad shape, and it
looked as if she would have to go to bed and stop there for a time,
whereas if we were to get away, we ought to be some miles from
Osnabrueck before daylight; and to go to any hotel or other place for
the purpose was very much like asking for more trouble when we had
quite sufficient already.
At the same time her safety was the pivot on which everything else
turned; it would be idiotic to try and get away, if it meant knocking
her up permanently; and that must be the first and prime consideration.
She lay so still and seemed so weak and done up, that it was clearly
necessary to do something instead of merely thinking about it.
"Can you make an effort, Nessa?" I whispered, bending over her.
"Make an effort? Of course I can. I thought you were bowled over.
That's why I kept quiet. I'm all right," and to my surprised relief she
sat up at once. "What shall we do?"
"I thought you were almost down and out," I exclaimed.
"Because I fainted? That was the reaction, I expect. I've never done
such a thing before that I can remember. But I'm all right again now.
I've been thinking."
"I've been doing a bit of that myself. Are you sure you're fit?" It was
difficult to believe it after what she had gone through.
"Of course I am, except for being a little shaken. It was an awful
business while it lasted; but it's over and got us out of all that
trouble. Of course every one will believe we were burnt alive;" and she
shuddered. "I suppose it's an awful disaster."
"Better not think of it. The last glimpse I had showed that our
carriage and the one behind it were in flames. You can see the glare
through the door there."
"Oh, Jack! And they were crowded with people!"
"We can't do anything to help, and we'd better think of ourselves," and
to distract her thoughts from the horrors of the train wreck I told her
the reasons against venturing into Osnabrueck.
"I've been thinking the same. Surely there's only one thing to do?"
"Well?"
"The 'third wheel', of course. It's been in my mind from the very
moment of the collision. I don't know how it was, but that rushed into
my head instantly; and when you weren't hurt, I could think of nothing
but that;" and she pointed to the suit case.
"It was the last word you spoke before fainting."
"And the first when I came round. I was so thankful when I saw you'd
brought it away all right. I didn't care after that. You didn't seem
really hurt; only shaken; I knew I should be all right soon; and I felt
a sort of certainty that the third wheel would carry us into safety.
Hadn't we better go?"
"Yes, if you feel fit to do a few miles before daylight?"
"You'll soon see that, if you'll go to your own room and change and
leave me to do the same."
My "room" was the back of the shed outside, and I lost no time in
getting off my own clothes and putting on the workman's dress over what
my flying friend had called the "tummy pad." Then I lit up and waited,
thinking what a plucky soul Nessa was, until she called to me.
"How's this, matey?" she asked in her new character and laughed.
It was a wonderful transformation indeed! I should never have
recognized her; and the few little scratches on her face from the
broken glass in the collision, combined with some artistic smudges she
had added, made her into a lifelike young workboy.
"What have you done with your hair?" I exclaimed.
"Just messed it up under the cap. Of course it'll have to come off; but
we'd better not waste any time about it now, had we? We can see to it
later in the morning."
"Righto," I agreed; and we set to work to finish the other
preparations. We had to dispose of our own clothes, of course; so we
rolled them up tightly, put the overalls in the suit case, and were
ready.
"Now for the frontier," I said. "Let's hope the luck's with us."
"Cheero, matey; if it isn't, you'll get us through somehow," she
replied with the most plucky confidence.
I loved her for that, for I knew that she understood the difficulties
and risks that lay ahead quite as well as I did. I lost my head for a
minute then; and just as we stood on the threshold of the dingy little
shed, I put my arm round her, drew her quickly to me and kissed her on
the lips.
She held to me for an instant, kissed me in return, and then drew away
quickly.
"Not so much of it, matey. Do you take me for a girl? You've knocked my
cap off, clumsy," she cried, laughing and blushing, as her glorious
hair fell over her shoulders and down to her waist.
"A fine sort of a girl you'd make, and no mistake," I replied, picking
up the cap and giving it to her.
In a few moments she had it in place again, pulled the cap down over it
and was once more ready.
"Come on, clumsy," she called, stepping out into the night.
And in that way we started on the journey to the frontier.