Part 5 (2/2)
Strangest of all, the train was so quiet, so utterly inactive, that an absurd feeling of loneliness grew upon her, gradually developing into the alarming certainty that she was the only living person in the world. Then she heard men's voices outside of the window; her relief was almost hysterical. Scrambling out of the berth, she began a hasty, nervous toilet. Three sharp pushes on the b.u.t.ton brought the company's ladies' maid--advertised as a part of the luxury and refinement which made the flyer ”the finest train in the world.”
”What has happened? Where are we?” she demanded, upon the entrance of the sleepy young coloured woman.
”The Pride River bridge is washed away, ma'am,” said the maid. ”We can't go on no furder.”
”Dear me,” sighed Eleanor, turning to be b.u.t.toned at the back. ”And where is Pride River bridge--or where was it, I mean?”
”'Bout twenty mile south of Omegon, ma'am--miss. The river's a sight--highest 'at it's ever been known. It's all over the bottoms.
This here train came mighty nigh running into it, too. A boy flagged it just in time, 'bout five o'clock.”
”Have we been standing here a whole hour?”
”Yes, miss; right here. They say we can't go back till the section boss has examined the track in Baxter's Cut. Seems as though there's some danger of a washout back yander.”
”Do you mean to say we are likely to stay here indefinitely?” gasped Eleanor. ”Ouch! Be careful, please!”
”Oh, it won't be long. The porter says they've sent back over the line to telegraft for the section men.”
”Good Heavens, is there no station here?”
”No, ma'am; five miles back. They's one jest across the river, but it might as well be in Africa.”
”Be quick, please, and then send the conductor to me--and the porter too,” urged Eleanor, in distress.
The porter was the first to arrive.
”Porter, will you go to Car 7 and see if the occupant of lower 4 is awake? I am quite sure that is right, but if it should happen to be wrong, please let me know at once.”
”Yes, miss; and what shall I tell her?”
”Ahem! It's a--a gentleman. Ask him to--to come to the rear end of the train. That's all. Oh, conductor, how soon will we be on the track again?” The conductor was standing in the door, evidently impressed by the summons from the drawing-room.
”We're not off the track, madam. There is no danger--just a little delay. I have telegraphed to see if I can have a relief train come down from Omegon and pick us up after we've been ferried across the river.”
”This is the very worst road I've ever travelled over--the very worst,”
was Eleanor's natural complaint. ”When will that get us to Omegon?”
”We should be there in an hour after leaving here.”
”And when did you say we'd leave here?”
”I didn't say. I don't know.”
”Who does know, if you don't?” demanded Eleanor.
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