Part 40 (2/2)

And how satisfactory it seemed to be lying there on the soft cus.h.i.+ons instead of walking about the works and the yard the previous night. I was growing more and more sleepy, the motion of the train serving to lull me; and then, all at once, I was wide-awake staring at the bubble of gla.s.s that formed the lamp in the ceiling, and wondering where I was.

I recollected directly and glanced at my fellow-traveller, to see that he was a little uneasy, one of his legs being off the seat; but he was breathing heavily, and evidently fast asleep.

I lay watching him for a few minutes, and then the sweet restful feeling mastered me again, and I went off fast asleep. One moment there was the compartment with its cus.h.i.+ons and lamp with the rush and sway of the carriage that made me think it must be something like this on board s.h.i.+p; the next I was back at the works keeping watch and wondering whether either of the men would come and make any attempt upon the place.

I don't know how long I had been asleep, but all at once, without moving, I was wide-awake with my eyes closed, fully realising that I had a valuable packet of some kind in my breast-pocket, and that my fellow-traveller was softly unb.u.t.toning my overcoat so as to get it out.

I lay perfectly still for a moment or two, and then leaped up and bounded to the other side of the carriage.

”There, it is of no use,” said my fellow-traveller; ”pull that letter out of your pocket and give it to me quietly or--”

He said no more, but took a pistol out of his breast, while I shrank up against the farther door, the window of which was open, and stared at him aghast.

”Do you hear?” he said fiercely. ”Come; no nonsense! I want that letter. There, I don't want to frighten you, boy. Come and sit down; I sha'n't hurt you.”

The train was flying along at forty miles an hour at least, and this man knew that the packet I had was valuable. How he knew it I could not tell, but he must have found out at Arrowfield. He was going to take it from me, and if he got it what was he going to do?

I thought it all over as if in a flash.

He was going to steal the packet, and he would know that I should complain at the first station we reached; and he would prevent this, I felt sure. But how?

There was only one way. He had threatened me with a pistol, but I did not think he would use that. No; there was only one way, and it was this--he would rob me and throw me out of the train.

My legs shook under me as I thought this, and the light in the carriage seemed to be dancing up and down, as I put my right arm out of the window and hung to the side to keep myself up.

All this was a matter of moments, and it seemed to be directly after my fellow-pa.s.senger had spoken first that he roared out, ”Do you hear, sir?

Come here!”

I did not move, and he made a dash at me, but, as he did, my right hand rested on the fastening of the door outside, turned the handle, and clinging to it, I swung out into the rus.h.i.+ng wind, turning half round as the door banged heavily back, when, by an instinctive motion, my left hand caught at anything to save me from falling, grasped the bar that ran along between door and door, and the next moment, how I know not, I was clinging to this bar with my feet on the foot-board, and my eyes strained back at the open door, out of which my fellow-pa.s.senger leaned.

”You young idiot, come back!” he roared; but the effect of his words was to make me shrink farther away, catching at the handle of the next door, and then reaching on to the next bar, so that I was now several feet away.

The wind seemed as if it would tear me from the foot-board, and I was obliged to keep my face away to breathe; but I clung to the bar tightly, and watched the fierce face that was thrust out of the door I had left.

”Am I to come after you?” he roared. ”Come back!”

My answer was to creep past another door, to find to my horror that this was the last, and that there was a great gap between me and the next carriage.

What was I to do? Jump, with the train das.h.i.+ng along at such a rate that it seemed as if I must be shaken down or torn off by the wind.

I stared back horror-stricken and then uttered a cry of fear, as the window I had just pa.s.sed was thrown open and a man leaned out.

”I'll swear I heard someone shout,” he said to a travelling companion, and he looked back along the train. ”Yes,” he continued, ”there's someone three compartments back looking out. Oh, he's gone in now.

Wonder what it was!”

Just then he turned his head in my direction, and saw my white face.

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