Chauffeurs -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Short stories
Once, I remember, he gave a great cry, and shot the car over to the
inside with such a twist that our wheels scraped the very rock; there
were moments when he came to a stand altogether, and passed his hand
over his eyes as though he could not see clearly. By here and there I
thought he drove like a madman, swooping round a fearful corner with
our wheels over the very chasm, or dashing down a straight as though
nothing could save him at the bottom. If I called out at this and
implored him not to be a fool, he answered back that "What was to be,
would be"; and then he mentioned Maisa's name, and I knew he had not
forgotten.
Well, as many know, the end came at that great dome of rock which looks
for all the world like St. Paul's Cathedral. I confess that I should
have been no wiser here than Ferdinand. We seemed to be following a
gentle curve round the dome, with the rock upon our left hand, and the
valley three thousand feet down upon our right. There was nothing to
tell us of the danger trap; and, thinking he had a clear road,
Ferdinand opened his throttle and we shot ahead like a shell from a
gun. Less than a second afterwards I had made a wild leap from my
seat--and Ferdinand, without a cry or a sound, had gone headlong to the
valley below.
I suppose five good minutes must have passed before I knew anything at
all, either of the nature of this awful accident or of the good luck
which attended my leap. Lying there on my back, I became conscious
presently that I was in a thick scrub of gorse, which lined the road
hereabouts. It had caught me just as a spider's web catches a fly. I
ached intolerably, that is true--my whole body seemed numbed, as though
it had been hit with irons, while my leather clothes were torn to rags.
But, by-and-by, it came to me that I could get up if I chose, and when
I looked below me and saw the sheer precipice, and that nothing but a
bush stood between me and it, you may be sure I scrambled back to the
road quicker than a man counts two. And there I lay, trying to
remember what had happened, and what my duty called upon me to do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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