الفصل الفصل 7 · The Lost Special

. The Lost Special

The confession of Herbert de Lernac, now lying under sentence of death

at Marseilles, has thrown a light upon one of the most inexplicable

crimes of the century--an incident which is, I believe, absolutely

unprecedented in the criminal annals of any country: Although there is

a reluctance to discuss the matter in official circles, and little

information has been given to the Press, there are still indications

that the statement of this arch-criminal is corroborated by the facts,

and that we have at last found a solution for a most astounding

business. As the matter is eight years old, and as its importance was

somewhat obscured by a political crisis which was engaging the public

attention at the time, it may be as well to state the facts as far as

we have been able to ascertain them. They are collated from the

Liverpool papers of that date, from the proceedings at the inquest upon

John Slater, the engine-driver, and from the records of the London and

West Coast Railway Company, which have been courteously put at my

disposal. Briefly, they are as follows:

On the 3rd of June, 1890, a gentleman, who gave his name as Monsieur

Louis Caratal, desired an interview with Mr. James Bland, the

superintendent of the London and West Coast Central Station in

Liverpool. He was a small man, middle-aged and dark, with a stoop

which was so marked that it suggested some deformity of the spine. He

was accompanied by a friend, a man of imposing physique, whose

deferential manner and constant attention showed that his position was

one of dependence. This friend or companion, whose name did not

transpire, was certainly a foreigner, and probably from his swarthy

complexion, either a Spaniard or a South American. One peculiarity was

observed in him. He carried in his left hand a small black, leather

dispatch box, and it was noticed by a sharp-eyed clerk in the Central

office that this box was fastened to his wrist by a strap. No

importance was attached to the fact at the time, but subsequent events

endowed it with some significance. Monsieur Caratal was shown up to Mr.

Bland's office, while his companion remained outside.

Monsieur Caratal's business was quickly dispatched. He had arrived

that afternoon from Central America. Affairs of the utmost importance

demanded that he should be in Paris without the loss of an unnecessary

hour. He had missed the London express. A special must be provided.

Money was of no importance. Time was everything. If the company would

speed him on his way, they might make their own terms.

Mr. Bland struck the electric bell, summoned Mr. Potter Hood, the

traffic manager, and had the matter arranged in five minutes. The train

would start in three-quarters of an hour. It would take that time to

insure that the line should be clear. The powerful engine called

Rochdale (No. 247 on the company's register) was attached to two

carriages, with a guard's van behind. The first carriage was solely

for the purpose of decreasing the inconvenience arising from the

oscillation. The second was divided, as usual, into four compartments,

a first-class, a first-class smoking, a second-class, and a

second-class smoking. The first compartment, which was nearest to the

engine, was the one allotted to the travellers. The other three were

empty. The guard of the special train was James McPherson, who had

been some years in the service of the company. The stoker, William

Smith, was a new hand.

Monsieur Caratal, upon leaving the superintendent's office, rejoined

his companion, and both of them manifested extreme impatience to be

off. Having paid the money asked, which amounted to fifty pounds five

shillings, at the usual special rate of five shillings a mile, they

demanded to be shown the carriage, and at once took their seats in it,

although they were assured that the better part of an hour must elapse

before the line could be cleared. In the meantime a singular

coincidence had occurred in the office which Monsieur Caratal had just

quitted.

A request for a special is not a very uncommon circumstance in a rich

commercial centre, but that two should be required upon the same

afternoon was most unusual. It so happened, however, that Mr. Bland

had hardly dismissed the first traveller before a second entered with a

similar request. This was a Mr. Horace Moore, a gentlemanly man of

military appearance, who alleged that the sudden serious illness of his

wife in London made it absolutely imperative that he should not lose an

instant in starting upon the journey. His distress and anxiety were so

evident that Mr. Bland did all that was possible to meet his wishes. A

second special was out of the question, as the ordinary local service

was already somewhat deranged by the first. There was the alternative,

however, that Mr. Moore should share the expense of Monsieur Caratal's

train, and should travel in the other empty first-class compartment, if

Monsieur Caratal objected to having him in the one which he occupied.

It was difficult to see any objection to such an arrangement, and yet

Monsieur Caratal, upon the suggestion being made to him by Mr. Potter

Hood, absolutely refused to consider it for an instant. The train was

his, he said, and he would insist upon the exclusive use of it. All

argument failed to overcome his ungracious objections, and finally the

plan had to be abandoned. Mr. Horace Moore left the station in great

distress, after learning that his only course was to take the ordinary

slow train which leaves Liverpool at six o'clock. At four thirty-one

exactly by the station clock the special train, containing the crippled

Monsieur Caratal and his gigantic companion, steamed out of the

Liverpool station. The line was at that time clear, and there should

have been no stoppage before Manchester.

The trains of the London and West Coast Railway run over the lines of

another company as far as this town, which should have been reached by

the special rather before six o'clock. At a quarter after six

considerable surprise and some consternation were caused amongst the

officials at Liverpool by the receipt of a telegram from Manchester to

say that it had not yet arrived. An inquiry directed to St. Helens,

which is a third of the way between the two cities, elicited the

following reply--

"To James Bland, Superintendent, Central L. & W. C.,

Liverpool.--Special passed here at 4:52, well up to time.--Dowster, St.

Helens."

This telegram was received at six-forty. At six-fifty a second message

was received from Manchester--

"No sign of special as advised by you."

And then ten minutes later a third, more bewildering--

"Presume some mistake as to proposed running of special. Local train

from St. Helens timed to follow it has just arrived and has seen

nothing of it. Kindly wire advices.--Manchester."

The matter was assuming a most amazing aspect, although in some

respects the last telegram was a relief to the authorities at

Liverpool. If an accident had occurred to the special, it seemed

hardly possible that the local train could have passed down the same

line without observing it. And yet, what was the alternative? Where

could the train be? Had it possibly been sidetracked for some reason

in order to allow the slower train to go past? Such an explanation was

possible if some small repair had to be effected. A telegram was

dispatched to each of the stations between St. Helens and Manchester,

and the superintendent and traffic manager waited in the utmost

suspense at the instrument for the series of replies which would enable

them to say for certain what had become of the missing train. The

answers came back in the order of questions, which was the order of the

stations beginning at the St. Helens end--

"Special passed here five o'clock.--Collins Green."

"Special passed here six past five.--Earlstown."

"Special passed here 5:10.--Newton."

"Special passed here 5:20.--Kenyon Junction."

"No special train has passed here.--Barton Moss."

The two officials stared at each other in amazement.

"This is unique in my thirty years of experience," said Mr. Bland.

"Absolutely unprecedented and inexplicable, sir. The special has gone

wrong between Kenyon Junction and Barton Moss."

"And yet there is no siding, so far as my memory serves me, between the

two stations. The special must have run off the metals."

"But how could the four-fifty parliamentary pass over the same line

without observing it?"

"There's no alternative, Mr. Hood. It must be so. Possibly the local

train may have observed something which may throw some light upon the

matter. We will wire to Manchester for more information, and to Kenyon

Junction with instructions that the line be examined instantly as far

as Barton Moss." The answer from Manchester came within a few minutes.

"No news of missing special. Driver and guard of slow train positive

no accident between Kenyon Junction and Barton Moss. Line quite clear,

and no sign of anything unusual.--Manchester."

"That driver and guard will have to go," said Mr. Bland, grimly.

"There has been a wreck and they have missed it. The special has

obviously run off the metals without disturbing the line--how it could

have done so passes my comprehension--but so it must be, and we shall

have a wire from Kenyon or Barton Moss presently to say that they have

found her at the bottom of an embankment."

But Mr. Bland's prophecy was not destined to be fulfilled. Half an hour

passed, and then there arrived the following message from the

station-master of Kenyon Junction--

"There are no traces of the missing special. It is quite certain that

she passed here, and that she did not arrive at Barton Moss. We have

detached engine from goods train, and I have myself ridden down the

line, but all is clear, and there is no sign of any accident."

Mr. Bland tore his hair in his perplexity.

"This is rank lunacy, Hood!" he cried. "Does a train vanish into thin

air in England in broad daylight? The thing is preposterous. An

engine, a tender, two carriages, a van, five human beings--and all lost

on a straight line of railway! Unless we get something positive within

the next hour I'll take Inspector Collins, and go down myself."

And then at last something positive did occur. It took the shape of

another telegram from Kenyon Junction.

"Regret to report that the dead body of John Slater, driver of the

special train, has just been found among the gorse bushes at a point

two and a quarter miles from the Junction. Had fallen from his engine,

pitched down the embankment, and rolled among the bushes. Injuries to

his head, from the fall, appear to be cause of death. Ground has now

been carefully examined, and there is no trace of the missing train."

The country was, as has already been stated, in the throes of a

political crisis, and the attention of the public was further

distracted by the important and sensational developments in Paris,

where a huge scandal threatened to destroy the Government and to wreck

the reputations of many of the leading men in France. The papers were

full of these events, and the singular disappearance of the special

train attracted less attention than would have been the case in more

peaceful times. The grotesque nature of the event helped to detract

from its importance, for the papers were disinclined to believe the

facts as reported to them. More than one of the London journals treated

the matter as an ingenious hoax, until the coroner's inquest upon the

unfortunate driver (an inquest which elicited nothing of importance)

convinced them of the tragedy of the incident.

Mr. Bland, accompanied by Inspector Collins, the senior detective

officer in the service of the company, went down to Kenyon Junction the

same evening, and their research lasted throughout the following day,

but was attended with purely negative results. Not only was no trace

found of the missing train, but no conjecture could be put forward

which could possibly explain the facts. At the same time, Inspector

Collins's official report (which lies before me as I write) served to

show that the possibilities were more numerous than might have been

expected.

"In the stretch of railway between these two points," said he, "the

country is dotted with ironworks and collieries. Of these, some are

being worked and some have been abandoned. There are no fewer than

twelve which have small-gauge lines which run trolly-cars down to the

main line. These can, of course, be disregarded. Besides these,

however, there are seven which have, or have had, proper lines running

down and connecting with points to the main line, so as to convey their

produce from the mouth of the mine to the great centres of

distribution. In every case these lines are only a few miles in

length. Out of the seven, four belong to collieries which are worked

out, or at least to shafts which are no longer used. These are the

Redgauntlet, Hero, Slough of Despond, and Heartsease mines, the latter

having ten years ago been one of the principal mines in Lancashire.

These four side lines may be eliminated from our inquiry, for, to

prevent possible accidents, the rails nearest to the main line have

been taken up, and there is no longer any connection. There remain

three other side lines leading--

(a) To the Carnstock Iron Works;

(b) To the Big Ben Colliery;

(c) To the Perseverance Colliery.

"Of these the Big Ben line is not more than a quarter of a mile long,

and ends at a dead wall of coal waiting removal from the mouth of the

mine. Nothing had been seen or heard there of any special. The

Carnstock Iron Works line was blocked all day upon the 3rd of June by

sixteen truckloads of hematite. It is a single line, and nothing could

have passed. As to the Perseverance line, it is a large double line,

which does a considerable traffic, for the output of the mine is very

large. On the 3rd of June this traffic proceeded as usual; hundreds of

men including a gang of railway platelayers were working along the two

miles and a quarter which constitute the total length of the line, and

it is inconceivable that an unexpected train could have come down there

without attracting universal attention. It may be remarked in

conclusion that this branch line is nearer to St. Helens than the point

at which the engine-driver was discovered, so that we have every reason

to believe that the train was past that point before misfortune

overtook her.

"As to John Slater, there is no clue to be gathered from his appearance

or injuries. We can only say that, so far as we can see, he met his

end by falling off his engine, though why he fell, or what became of

the engine after his fall, is a question upon which I do not feel

qualified to offer an opinion." In conclusion, the inspector offered

his resignation to the Board, being much nettled by an accusation of

incompetence in the London papers.

A month elapsed, during which both the police and the company

prosecuted their inquiries without the slightest success. A reward was

offered and a pardon promised in case of crime, but they were both

unclaimed. Every day the public opened their papers with the

conviction that so grotesque a mystery would at last be solved, but

week after week passed by, and a solution remained as far off as ever.

In broad daylight, upon a June afternoon in the most thickly inhabited

portion of England, a train with its occupants had disappeared as

completely as if some master of subtle chemistry had volatilized it

into gas. Indeed, among the various conjectures which were put forward

in the public Press, there were some which seriously asserted that

supernatural, or, at least, preternatural, agencies had been at work,

and that the deformed Monsieur Caratal was probably a person who was

better known under a less polite name. Others fixed upon his swarthy

companion as being the author of the mischief, but what it was exactly

which he had done could never be clearly formulated in words.

Amongst the many suggestions put forward by various newspapers or

private individuals, there were one or two which were feasible enough

to attract the attention of the public. One which appeared in The

Times, over the signature of an amateur reasoner of some celebrity at

that date, attempted to deal with the matter in a critical and

semi-scientific manner. An extract must suffice, although the curious

can see the whole letter in the issue of the 3rd of July.

"It is one of the elementary principles of practical reasoning," he

remarked, "that when the impossible has been eliminated the residuum,

HOWEVER IMPROBABLE, must contain the truth. It is certain that the

train left Kenyon Junction. It is certain that it did not reach Barton

Moss. It is in the highest degree unlikely, but still possible, that

it may have taken one of the seven available side lines. It is

obviously impossible for a train to run where there are no rails, and,

therefore, we may reduce our improbables to the three open lines,

namely the Carnstock Iron Works, the Big Ben, and the Perseverance. Is

there a secret society of colliers, an English Camorra, which is

capable of destroying both train and passengers? It is improbable, but

it is not impossible. I confess that I am unable to suggest any other

solution. I should certainly advise the company to direct all their

energies towards the observation of those three lines, and of the

workmen at the end of them. A careful supervision of the pawnbrokers'

shops of the district might possibly bring some suggestive facts to

light."

The suggestion coming from a recognized authority upon such matters

created considerable interest, and a fierce opposition from those who

considered such a statement to be a preposterous libel upon an honest

and deserving set of men. The only answer to this criticism was a

challenge to the objectors to lay any more feasible explanations before

the public. In reply to this two others were forthcoming (Times, July

7th and 9th). The first suggested that the train might have run off

the metals and be lying submerged in the Lancashire and Staffordshire

Canal, which runs parallel to the railway for some hundred of yards.

This suggestion was thrown out of court by the published depth of the

canal, which was entirely insufficient to conceal so large an object.

The second correspondent wrote calling attention to the bag which

appeared to be the sole luggage which the travellers had brought with

them, and suggesting that some novel explosive of immense and

pulverizing power might have been concealed in it. The obvious

absurdity, however, of supposing that the whole train might be blown to

dust while the metals remained uninjured reduced any such explanation

to a farce. The investigation had drifted into this hopeless position

when a new and most unexpected incident occurred.

This was nothing less than the receipt by Mrs. McPherson of a letter

from her husband, James McPherson, who had been the guard on the

missing train. The letter, which was dated July 5th, 1890, was posted

from New York and came to hand upon July 14th. Some doubts were

expressed as to its genuine character but Mrs. McPherson was positive

as to the writing, and the fact that it contained a remittance of a

hundred dollars in five-dollar notes was enough in itself to discount

the idea of a hoax. No address was given in the letter, which ran in

this way:

MY DEAR WIFE,--

"I have been thinking a great deal, and I find it very hard to give you

up. The same with Lizzie. I try to fight against it, but it will

always come back to me. I send you some money which will change into

twenty English pounds. This should be enough to bring both Lizzie and

you across the Atlantic, and you will find the Hamburg boats which stop

at Southampton very good boats, and cheaper than Liverpool. If you

could come here and stop at the Johnston House I would try and send you

word how to meet, but things are very difficult with me at present, and

I am not very happy, finding it hard to give you both up. So no more

at present, from your loving husband,

"James McPherson."

For a time it was confidently anticipated that this letter would lead

to the clearing up of the whole matter, the more so as it was

ascertained that a passenger who bore a close resemblance to the

missing guard had travelled from Southampton under the name of Summers

in the Hamburg and New York liner Vistula, which started upon the 7th

of June. Mrs. McPherson and her sister Lizzie Dolton went across to

New York as directed and stayed for three weeks at the Johnston House,

without hearing anything from the missing man. It is probable that

some injudicious comments in the Press may have warned him that the

police were using them as a bait. However, this may be, it is certain

that he neither wrote nor came, and the women were eventually compelled

to return to Liverpool.

And so the matter stood, and has continued to stand up to the present

year of 1898. Incredible as it may seem, nothing has transpired during

these eight years which has shed the least light upon the extraordinary

disappearance of the special train which contained Monsieur Caratal and

his companion. Careful inquiries into the antecedents of the two

travellers have only established the fact that Monsieur Caratal was

well known as a financier and political agent in Central America, and

that during his voyage to Europe he had betrayed extraordinary anxiety

to reach Paris. His companion, whose name was entered upon the

passenger lists as Eduardo Gomez, was a man whose record was a violent

one, and whose reputation was that of a bravo and a bully. There was

evidence to show, however, that he was honestly devoted to the

interests of Monsieur Caratal, and that the latter, being a man of puny

physique, employed the other as a guard and protector. It may be added

that no information came from Paris as to what the objects of Monsieur

Caratal's hurried journey may have been. This comprises all the facts

of the case up to the publication in the Marseilles papers of the

recent confession of Herbert de Lernac, now under sentence of death for

the murder of a merchant named Bonvalot. This statement may be

literally translated as follows:

"It is not out of mere pride or boasting that I give this information,

for, if that were my object, I could tell a dozen actions of mine which

are quite as splendid; but I do it in order that certain gentlemen in

Paris may understand that I, who am able here to tell about the fate of

Monsieur Caratal, can also tell in whose interest and at whose request

the deed was done, unless the reprieve which I am awaiting comes to me

very quickly. Take warning, messieurs, before it is too late! You

know Herbert de Lernac, and you are aware that his deeds are as ready

as his words. Hasten then, or you are lost!

"At present I shall mention no names--if you only heard the names, what

would you not think!--but I shall merely tell you how cleverly I did

it. I was true to my employers then, and no doubt they will be true to

me now. I hope so, and until I am convinced that they have betrayed

me, these names, which would convulse Europe, shall not be divulged.

But on that day ... well, I say no more!

"In a word, then, there was a famous trial in Paris, in the year 1890,

in connection with a monstrous scandal in politics and finance. How

monstrous that scandal was can never be known save by such confidential

agents as myself. The honour and careers of many of the chief men in

France were at stake. You have seen a group of ninepins standing, all

so rigid, and prim, and unbending. Then there comes the ball from far

away and pop, pop, pop--there are your ninepins on the floor. Well,

imagine some of the greatest men in France as these ninepins and then

this Monsieur Caratal was the ball which could be seen coming from far

away. If he arrived, then it was pop, pop, pop for all of them. It

was determined that he should not arrive.

"I do not accuse them all of being conscious of what was to happen.

There were, as I have said, great financial as well as political

interests at stake, and a syndicate was formed to manage the business.

Some subscribed to the syndicate who hardly understood what were its

objects. But others understood very well, and they can rely upon it

that I have not forgotten their names. They had ample warning that

Monsieur Caratal was coming long before he left South America, and they

knew that the evidence which he held would certainly mean ruin to all

of them. The syndicate had the command of an unlimited amount of

money--absolutely unlimited, you understand. They looked round for an

agent who was capable of wielding this gigantic power. The man chosen

must be inventive, resolute, adaptive--a man in a million. They chose

Herbert de Lernac, and I admit that they were right.

"My duties were to choose my subordinates, to use freely the power

which money gives, and to make certain that Monsieur Caratal should

never arrive in Paris. With characteristic energy I set about my

commission within an hour of receiving my instructions, and the steps

which I took were the very best for the purpose which could possibly be

devised.

"A man whom I could trust was dispatched instantly to South America to

travel home with Monsieur Caratal. Had he arrived in time the ship

would never have reached Liverpool; but alas! it had already started

before my agent could reach it. I fitted out a small armed brig to

intercept it, but again I was unfortunate. Like all great organizers I

was, however, prepared for failure, and had a series of alternatives

prepared, one or the other of which must succeed. You must not

underrate the difficulties of my undertaking, or imagine that a mere

commonplace assassination would meet the case. We must destroy not

only Monsieur Caratal, but Monsieur Caratal's documents, and Monsieur

Caratal's companions also, if we had reason to believe that he had

communicated his secrets to them. And you must remember that they were

on the alert, and keenly suspicious of any such attempt. It was a task

which was in every way worthy of me, for I am always most masterful

where another would be appalled.

"I was all ready for Monsieur Caratal's reception in Liverpool, and I

was the more eager because I had reason to believe that he had made

arrangements by which he would have a considerable guard from the

moment that he arrived in London. Anything which was to be done must

be done between the moment of his setting foot upon the Liverpool quay

and that of his arrival at the London and West Coast terminus in

London. We prepared six plans, each more elaborate than the last;

which plan would be used would depend upon his own movements. Do what

he would, we were ready for him. If he had stayed in Liverpool, we

were ready. If he took an ordinary train, an express, or a special,

all was ready. Everything had been foreseen and provided for.

"You may imagine that I could not do all this myself. What could I

know of the English railway lines? But money can procure willing

agents all the world over, and I soon had one of the acutest brains in

England to assist me. I will mention no names, but it would be unjust

to claim all the credit for myself. My English ally was worthy of such

an alliance. He knew the London and West Coast line thoroughly, and he

had the command of a band of workers who were trustworthy and

intelligent. The idea was his, and my own judgement was only required

in the details. We bought over several officials, amongst whom the

most important was James McPherson, whom we had ascertained to be the

guard most likely to be employed upon a special train. Smith, the

stoker, was also in our employ. John Slater, the engine-driver, had

been approached, but had been found to be obstinate and dangerous, so

we desisted. We had no certainty that Monsieur Caratal would take a

special, but we thought it very probable, for it was of the utmost

importance to him that he should reach Paris without delay. It was for

this contingency, therefore, that we made special

preparations--preparations which were complete down to the last detail

long before his steamer had sighted the shores of England. You will be

amused to learn that there was one of my agents in the pilot-boat which

brought that steamer to its moorings.

"The moment that Caratal arrived in Liverpool we knew that he suspected

danger and was on his guard. He had brought with him as an escort a

dangerous fellow, named Gomez, a man who carried weapons, and was

prepared to use them. This fellow carried Caratal's confidential

papers for him, and was ready to protect either them or his master.

The probability was that Caratal had taken him into his counsel, and

that to remove Caratal without removing Gomez would be a mere waste of

energy. It was necessary that they should be involved in a common

fate, and our plans to that end were much facilitated by their request

for a special train. On that special train you will understand that

two out of the three servants of the company were really in our employ,

at a price which would make them independent for a lifetime. I do not

go so far as to say that the English are more honest than any other

nation, but I have found them more expensive to buy.

"I have already spoken of my English agent--who is a man with a

considerable future before him, unless some complaint of the throat

carries him off before his time. He had charge of all arrangements at

Liverpool, whilst I was stationed at the inn at Kenyon, where I awaited

a cipher signal to act. When the special was arranged for, my agent

instantly telegraphed to me and warned me how soon I should have

everything ready. He himself under the name of Horace Moore applied

immediately for a special also, in the hope that he would be sent down

with Monsieur Caratal, which might under certain circumstances have

been helpful to us. If, for example, our great coup had failed, it

would then have become the duty of my agent to have shot them both and

destroyed their papers. Caratal was on his guard, however, and refused

to admit any other traveller. My agent then left the station, returned

by another entrance, entered the guard's van on the side farthest from

the platform, and travelled down with McPherson the guard.

"In the meantime you will be interested to know what my movements were.

Everything had been prepared for days before, and only the finishing

touches were needed. The side line which we had chosen had once joined

the main line, but it had been disconnected. We had only to replace a

few rails to connect it once more. These rails had been laid down as

far as could be done without danger of attracting attention, and now it

was merely a case of completing a juncture with the line, and arranging

the points as they had been before. The sleepers had never been

removed, and the rails, fish-plates and rivets were all ready, for we

had taken them from a siding on the abandoned portion of the line.

With my small but competent band of workers, we had everything ready

long before the special arrived. When it did arrive, it ran off upon

the small side line so easily that the jolting of the points appears to

have been entirely unnoticed by the two travellers.

"Our plan had been that Smith, the stoker, should chloroform John

Slater, the driver, so that he should vanish with the others. In this

respect, and in this respect only, our plans miscarried--I except the

criminal folly of McPherson in writing home to his wife. Our stoker did

his business so clumsily that Slater in his struggles fell off the

engine, and though fortune was with us so far that he broke his neck in

the fall, still he remained as a blot upon that which would otherwise

have been one of those complete masterpieces which are only to be

contemplated in silent admiration. The criminal expert will find in

John Slater the one flaw in all our admirable combinations. A man who

has had as many triumphs as I can afford to be frank, and I therefore

lay my finger upon John Slater, and I proclaim him to be a flaw.

"But now I have got our special train upon the small line two

kilometres, or rather more than one mile, in length, which leads, or

rather used to lead, to the abandoned Heartsease mine, once one of the

largest coal mines in England. You will ask how it is that no one saw

the train upon this unused line. I answer that along its entire length

it runs through a deep cutting, and that, unless someone had been on

the edge of that cutting, he could not have seen it. There WAS someone

on the edge of that cutting. I was there. And now I will tell you

what I saw.

"My assistant had remained at the points in order that he might

superintend the switching off of the train. He had four armed men with

him, so that if the train ran off the line--we thought it probable,

because the points were very rusty--we might still have resources to

fall back upon. Having once seen it safely on the side line, he handed

over the responsibility to me. I was waiting at a point which

overlooks the mouth of the mine, and I was also armed, as were my two

companions. Come what might, you see, I was always ready.

"The moment that the train was fairly on the side line, Smith, the

stoker, slowed-down the engine, and then, having turned it on to the

fullest speed again, he and McPherson, with my English lieutenant,

sprang off before it was too late. It may be that it was this

slowing-down which first attracted the attention of the travellers, but

the train was running at full speed again before their heads appeared

at the open window. It makes me smile to think how bewildered they

must have been. Picture to yourself your own feelings if, on looking

out of your luxurious carriage, you suddenly perceived that the lines

upon which you ran were rusted and corroded, red and yellow with disuse

and decay! What a catch must have come in their breath as in a second

it flashed upon them that it was not Manchester but Death which was

waiting for them at the end of that sinister line. But the train was

running with frantic speed, rolling and rocking over the rotten line,

while the wheels made a frightful screaming sound upon the rusted

surface. I was close to them, and could see their faces. Caratal was

praying, I think--there was something like a rosary dangling out of his

hand. The other roared like a bull who smells the blood of the

slaughter-house. He saw us standing on the bank, and he beckoned to us

like a madman. Then he tore at his wrist and threw his dispatch-box

out of the window in our direction. Of course, his meaning was

obvious. Here was the evidence, and they would promise to be silent if

their lives were spared. It would have been very agreeable if we could

have done so, but business is business. Besides, the train was now as

much beyond our controls as theirs.

"He ceased howling when the train rattled round the curve and they saw

the black mouth of the mine yawning before them. We had removed the

boards which had covered it, and we had cleared the square entrance.

The rails had formerly run very close to the shaft for the convenience

of loading the coal, and we had only to add two or three lengths of

rail in order to lead to the very brink of the shaft. In fact, as the

lengths would not quite fit, our line projected about three feet over

the edge. We saw the two heads at the window: Caratal below, Gomez

above; but they had both been struck silent by what they saw. And yet

they could not withdraw their heads. The sight seemed to have

paralysed them.

"I had wondered how the train running at a great speed would take the

pit into which I had guided it, and I was much interested in watching

it. One of my colleagues thought that it would actually jump it, and

indeed it was not very far from doing so. Fortunately, however, it fell

short, and the buffers of the engine struck the other lip of the shaft

with a tremendous crash. The funnel flew off into the air. The

tender, carriages, and van were all smashed up into one jumble, which,

with the remains of the engine, choked for a minute or so the mouth of

the pit. Then something gave way in the middle, and the whole mass of

green iron, smoking coals, brass fittings, wheels, wood-work, and

cushions all crumbled together and crashed down into the mine. We

heard the rattle, rattle, rattle, as the debris struck against the

walls, and then, quite a long time afterwards, there came a deep roar

as the remains of the train struck the bottom. The boiler may have

burst, for a sharp crash came after the roar, and then a dense cloud of

steam and smoke swirled up out of the black depths, falling in a spray

as thick as rain all round us. Then the vapour shredded off into thin

wisps, which floated away in the summer sunshine, and all was quiet

again in the Heartsease mine.

"And now, having carried out our plans so successfully, it only

remained to leave no trace behind us. Our little band of workers at

the other end had already ripped up the rails and disconnected the side

line, replacing everything as it had been before. We were equally busy

at the mine. The funnel and other fragments were thrown in, the shaft

was planked over as it used to be, and the lines which led to it were

torn up and taken away. Then, without flurry, but without delay, we

all made our way out of the country, most of us to Paris, my English

colleague to Manchester, and McPherson to Southampton, whence he

emigrated to America. Let the English papers of that date tell how

throughly we had done our work, and how completely we had thrown the

cleverest of their detectives off our track.

"You will remember that Gomez threw his bag of papers out of the

window, and I need not say that I secured that bag and brought them to

my employers. It may interest my employers now, however, to learn that

out of that bag I took one or two little papers as a souvenir of the

occasion. I have no wish to publish these papers; but, still, it is

every man for himself in this world, and what else can I do if my

friends will not come to my aid when I want them? Messieurs, you may

believe that Herbert de Lernac is quite as formidable when he is

against you as when he is with you, and that he is not a man to go to

the guillotine until he has seen that every one of you is en route for

New Caledonia. For your own sake, if not for mine, make haste,

Monsieur de ----, and General ----, and Baron ---- (you can fill up the

blanks for yourselves as you read this). I promise you that in the

next edition there will be no blanks to fill.

"P.S.--As I look over my statement there is only one omission which I

can see. It concerns the unfortunate man McPherson, who was foolish

enough to write to his wife and to make an appointment with her in New

York. It can be imagined that when interests like ours were at stake,

we could not leave them to the chance of whether a man in that class of

life would or would not give away his secrets to a woman. Having once

broken his oath by writing to his wife, we could not trust him any

more. We took steps therefore to insure that he should not see his

wife. I have sometimes thought that it would be a kindness to write to

her and to assure her that there is no impediment to her marrying

again."