"That was Mayor Berg and his wife," he said, taking off his cap again
in a sort of ecstasy. "The express stops for him, eh? Ha! It stops for
no one else but our good Mayor. When he commands it to stop it stops--"
"Answer my question," I thundered, "or I shall report you to the Mayor!"
"Ach, Gott!" he gasped. Collecting his thoughts, he said: "There is
no train until nine o'clock in the morning. Nine, mein herr."
"Ach, Gott!" groaned I. "Are you sure?"
"Jah! You can go home now and go to bed, sir. There will be no train
until nine and I will not be on duty then. Good night!"
Britton led me into the waiting-room, where I sat down and glared at
him as if he were to blame for everything connected with our present
plight.
"I daresay we'd better be starting 'ome, sir," said he timidly.
"Something 'as gone wrong with the plans, I fear. They did not come,
sir."
"Do you think I am blind?" I roared.
"Not at all, sir," he said in haste, taking a step or two backward.
Inquiries at the little eating-house only served to verify the report
of the station-guard. There would be no train before nine o'clock, and
that was a very slow one; what we would call a "local" in the States.
Sometimes, according to the proprietress, it was so slow that it didn't
get in at all. It had been known to amble in as late as one in the
afternoon, but when it happened to be later than that it ceased to
have an identity of its own and came in as a part of the two o'clock
train. Moreover, it carried nothing but third-class carriages and more
often than not it had as many as a dozen freight cars attached.
There was not the slightest probability that the fastidious Mrs. Titus
would travel by such a train, so we were forced to the conclusion that
something had gone wrong with the plans. Very dismally we prepared for
the long drive home. What could have happened to upset the well-arranged
plan? Were Tarnowsy's spies so hot upon the trail that it was necessary
for her to abandon the attempt to enter my castle? In that case, she
must have sent some sort of a message to her daughter, apprising her
of the unexpected change; a message which, unhappily for me, arrived
after my departure. It was not likely that she would have altered her
plans without letting us know, and yet I could not shake off an
exasperating sense of doubt. If I were to believe all that Bangs said
about the excellent lady, it would not be unlike her to do quite as
she pleased in the premises without pausing to consider the comfort
or the convenience of any one else interested in the undertaking. A
selfish desire to spend the day in Lucerne might have overtaken her
_en passant_, and the rest of us could go hang for all that she cared
about consequences!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account