"Good-bye, Stephania," he had said. "Be of good cheer whilst I am
away, and guard the line well. It is sad to leave you here all alone.
Sad to be obliged to leave one's native country and abandon it to
unknown dangers. How much better I should have liked to have defended
Lithuania, I, a Lithuanian bred and born, than to have been drafted
into a regiment bound for the Caucasus. As if the Government could not
trust us in our own country! However, Stephania, you are left, and you
are doing a man's duty. It makes me happy, in the midst of my misery,
to think that you are there to look after the home and the crossing and
the rails. Guard them well, Stephania, and rest assured that, in my
absence, I shall constantly pray to the Virgin to watch over you."
Her reflections were interrupted by a shriek from the locomotive of
the expected train, which was made up partly of compartments packed
with soldiers, partly of wagons filled with the most heterogeneous
collection of things she had ever seen in her life--pieces of machinery
piled one on the top of the other, heaps of metal articles of every
imaginable description, and every scrap of copper or lead, apparently,
which Shavli contained. A waving of hands from the soldiers, a friendly
yell from a hundred throats, and the train had sped on its way.
Stephania Ychas had no time now to waste over daydreaming. Hurrying
into her cottage, she went straight to the telephone and rang up the
commander of the station farther up the line. After ringing in vain for
fully a minute, she got the connection and made her report.
"Train number three hundred and forty-six passed North Shavli crossing
a minute ago," she said. "A mixed train, men and materials. Any news?"
"Shavli reports that things are getting warm," replied a voice. "I
should not be surprised to hear that we have to leave before the day's
out. You'd better 'phone to headquarters."
She lost not a moment in carrying out the suggestion.
"Halloa, halloa! Is that Shavli?"
"Yes," came a quick answer. "You're the North Shavli crossing-keeper,
aren't you? Good! Well, we were just about to call you up. Matters are
coming to a climax here. There are only two more trains to go through
now. One with men will be with you in a couple of minutes at the
latest; the other, with goods, should follow ten minutes afterwards. We
are telling the driver to pick you up."
At this point the speaker was called away from the telephone, and an
indistinct buzz as of a whole office in conversation, mingled with the
trampling of feet and the slamming of doors followed. But finally the
speaker returned.
"Halloa, halloa! Are you still there, North Shavli? Telephone forward
all I have said, and prepare them for the worst."
Stephania Ychas, now tingling with excitement, did as she was bid. Once
more she stood on duty to see the reported train pass, and again she
went to the telephone to send her report forward. Having finished, she
was about to hang up the receiver when, on looking through the window
on her left, her eyes caught sight of something unusual far down the
line, almost at the point where the metals curved out of view. To run
and fetch a pair of glasses which, ever since the beginning of the
war, she had kept hanging in their leather case by the side of the
fireplace, to bring them to bear on the point in question, and at the
same time to ring up Shavli, was the work of a minute. What she saw,
though her calm voice in no way revealed her inner emotion, made the
blood run cold through her veins.
"Halloa, halloa! Are you there, Shavli?"
A reply came in the affirmative.
"For Heaven's sake remain at the 'phone. There's foul work going on
near the great curve. You must give orders at once to keep back the
train."
"One moment, and I will return," replied the railway official.