Round the Fire Stories

by Arthur Conan Doyle

THE LOST SPECIAL

  The confession of Herbert de Lernac, now lying under sentence of deathat Marseilles, has thrown a light upon one of the most inexplicablecrimes of the century—an incident which is, I believe, absolutelyunprecedented in the criminal annals of any country. Although there is areluctance to discuss the matter in official circles, and littleinformation has been given to the Press, there are still indicationsthat the statement of this arch-criminal is corroborated by the facts,and that we have at last found a solution for a most astoundingbusiness. As the matter is eight years old, and as its importance wassomewhat obscured by a political crisis which was engaging the publicattention at the time, it may be as well to state the facts as far as wehave been able to ascertain them. They are collated from the Liverpoolpapers of that date, from the proceedings at the inquest upon JohnSlater, the engine-driver, and from the records of the London and WestCoast 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 MonsieurLouis Caratal, desired an interview with Mr. James Bland, thesuperintendent of the London and West Coast Central Station inLiverpool. He was a small man, middle-aged and dark, with a stoop whichwas so marked that it suggested some deformity of the spine. He wasaccompanied by a friend, a man of imposing physique, whose deferentialmanner and constant attention showed that his position was one ofdependence. This friend or companion, whose name did not transpire, wascertainly a foreigner, and probably, from his swarthy complexion, eithera Spaniard or a South American. One peculiarity was observed in him. Hecarried in his left hand a small black leather dispatch-box, and it wasnoticed by a sharp-eyed clerk in the Central office that this box wasfastened to his wrist by a strap. No importance was attached to the factat the time, but subsequent events endowed it with some significance.Monsieur Caratal was shown up to Mr. Bland’s office, while his companionremained outside.

  Monsieur Caratal’s business was quickly dispatched. He had arrived thatafternoon from Central America. Affairs of the utmost importancedemanded that he should be in Paris without the loss of an unnecessaryhour. He had missed the London express. A special must be provided.Money was of no importance. Time was everything. If the company wouldspeed him on his way, they might make their own terms.

  Mr. Bland struck the electric bell, summoned Mr. Potter Hood, thetraffic manager, and had the matter arranged in five minutes. The trainwould start in three-quarters of an hour. It would take that time toinsure that the line should be clear. The powerful engine calledRochdale (No. 247 on the company’s register) was attached to twocarriages, with a guard’s van behind. The first carriage was solely forthe purpose of decreasing the inconvenience arising from theoscillation. The second was divided, as usual, into four compartments, afirst-class, a first-class smoking, a second-class, and a second-classsmoking. The first compartment, which was nearest to the engine, was theone allotted to the travellers. The other three were empty. The guard ofthe special train was James McPherson, who had been some years in theservice of the company. The stoker, William Smith, was a new hand.

  Monsieur Caratal, upon leaving the superintendent’s office, rejoined hiscompanion, and both of them manifested extreme impatience to be off.Having paid the money asked, which amounted to fifty pounds fiveshillings, at the usual special rate of five shillings a mile, theydemanded 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 elapsebefore the line could be cleared. In the meantime a singular coincidencehad occurred in the office which Monsieur Caratal had just quitted.

  A request for a special is not a very uncommon circumstance in a richcommercial centre, but that two should be required upon the sameafternoon was most unusual. It so happened, however, that Mr. Bland hadhardly dismissed the first traveller before a second entered with asimilar request. This was a Mr. Horace Moore, a gentlemanly man ofmilitary appearance, who alleged that the sudden serious illness of hiswife in London made it absolutely imperative that he should not lose aninstant in starting upon the journey. His distress and anxiety were soevident that Mr. Bland did all that was possible to meet his wishes. Asecond special was out of the question, as the ordinary local servicewas already somewhat deranged by the first. There was the alternative,however, that Mr. Moore should share the expense of Monsieur Caratal’strain, and should travel in the other empty first-class compartment, ifMonsieur Caratal objected to having him in the one which he occupied. Itwas difficult to see any objection to such an arrangement, and yetMonsieur Caratal, upon the suggestion being made to him by Mr. PotterHood, absolutely refused to consider it for an instant. The train washis, he said, and he would insist upon the exclusive use of it. Allargument failed to overcome his ungracious objections, and finally theplan had to be abandoned. Mr. Horace Moore left the station in greatdistress, after learning that his only course was to take the ordinaryslow train which leaves Liverpool at six o’clock. At four thirty-oneexactly by the station clock the special train, containing the crippledMonsieur Caratal and his gigantic companion, steamed out of theLiverpool station. The line was at that time clear, and there shouldhave been no stoppage before Manchester.

  The trains of the London and West Coast Railway run over the lines ofanother company as far as this town, which should have been reached bythe special rather before six o’clock. At a quarter after sixconsiderable surprise and some consternation were caused amongst theofficials at Liverpool by the receipt of a telegram from Manchester tosay that it had not yet arrived. An inquiry directed to St. Helens,which is a third of the way between the two cities, elicited thefollowing reply:—

  “To James Bland, Superintendent, Central L. & W. C., Liverpool.—Specialpassed here at 4.52, well up to time.—Dowser, St. Helens.”

  This telegram was received at 6.40. At 6.50 a second message wasreceived 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 trainfrom St. Helens timed to follow it has just arrived and has seen nothingof it. Kindly wire advices.—Manchester.”

  The matter was assuming a most amazing aspect, although in some respectsthe last telegram was a relief to the authorities at Liverpool. If anaccident had occurred to the special, it seemed hardly possible that thelocal train could have passed down the same line without observing it.And yet, what was the alternative? Where could the train be? Had itpossibly been side-tracked for some reason in order to allow the slowertrain to go past? Such an explanation was possible if some small repairhad to be effected. A telegram was dispatched to each of the stationsbetween St. Helens and Manchester, and the superintendent and trafficmanager waited in the utmost suspense at the instrument for the seriesof replies which would enable them to say for certain what had become ofthe 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.—Earlestown.”

  “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 gonewrong between Kenyon Junction and Barton Moss.”

  “And yet there is no siding, so far as my memory serves me, between thetwo stations. The special must have run off the metals.”

  “But how could the four-fifty parliamentary pass over the same linewithout observing it?”

  “There’s no alternative, Mr. Hood. It _must_ be so. Possibly the localtrain may have observed something which may throw some light
upon thematter. We will wire to Manchester for more information, and to KenyonJunction with instructions that the line be examined instantly as far asBarton Moss.”

  The answer from Manchester came within a few minutes.

  “No news of missing special. Driver and guard of slow train positive noaccident between Kenyon Junction and Barton Moss. Line quite clear, andno sign of anything unusual.—Manchester.”

  “That driver and guard will have to go,” said Mr. Bland, grimly. “Therehas been a wreck and they have missed it. The special has obviously runoff the metals without disturbing the line—how it could have done sopasses my comprehension—but so it must be, and we shall have a wire fromKenyon or Barton Moss presently to say that they have found her at thebottom of an embankment.”

  But Mr. Bland’s prophecy was not destined to be fulfilled. Half an hourpassed, and then there arrived the following message from thestation-master of Kenyon Junction:—

  “There are no traces of the missing special. It is quite certain thatshe passed here, and that she did not arrive at Barton Moss. We havedetached engine from goods train, and I have myself ridden down theline, 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 thinair in England in broad daylight? The thing is preposterous. An engine,a tender, two carriages, a van, five human beings—and all lost on astraight line of railway! Unless we get something positive within thenext hour I’ll take Inspector Collins, and go down myself.”

  And then at last something positive did occur. It took the shape ofanother telegram from Kenyon Junction.

  “Regret to report that the dead body of John Slater, driver of thespecial train, has just been found among the gorse bushes at a point twoand a quarter miles from the Junction. Had fallen from his engine,pitched down the embankment, and rolled among bushes. Injuries to hishead, from the fall, appear to be cause of death. Ground has now beencarefully examined, and there is no trace of the missing train.”

  The country was, as has already been stated, in the throes of apolitical crisis, and the attention of the public was further distractedby the important and sensational developments in Paris, where a hugescandal threatened to destroy the Government and to wreck thereputations of many of the leading men in France. The papers were fullof these events, and the singular disappearance of the special trainattracted less attention than would have been the case in more peacefultimes. The grotesque nature of the event helped to detract from itsimportance, for the papers were disinclined to believe the facts asreported to them. More than one of the London journals treated thematter as an ingenious hoax, until the coroner’s inquest upon theunfortunate driver (an inquest which elicited nothing of importance)convinced them of the tragedy of the incident.

  Mr. Bland, accompanied by Inspector Collins, the senior detectiveofficer in the service of the company, went down to Kenyon Junction thesame evening, and their research lasted throughout the following day,but was attended with purely negative results. Not only was no tracefound of the missing train, but no conjecture could be put forward whichcould possibly explain the facts. At the same time, Inspector Collins’sofficial report (which lies before me as I write) served to show thatthe possibilities were more numerous than might have been expected.

  “In the stretch of railway between these two points,” said he, “thecountry is dotted with ironworks and collieries. Of these, some arebeing worked and some have been abandoned. There are no fewer thantwelve which have small gauge lines which run trolly-cars down to themain line. These can, of course, be disregarded. Besides these, however,there are seven which have or have had, proper lines running down andconnecting with points to the main line, so as to convey their producefrom the mouth of the mine to the great centres of distribution. Inevery 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 shaftswhich are no longer used. These are the Redgauntlet, Hero, Slough ofDespond, and Heartsease mines, the latter having ten years ago been oneof the principal mines in Lancashire. These four side lines may beeliminated from our inquiry, for, to prevent possible accidents, therails nearest to the main line have been taken up, and there is nolonger 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 themine. Nothing had been seen or heard there of any special. The CarnstockIron Works line was blocked all day upon the 3rd of June by sixteentruckloads of hematite. It is a single line, and nothing could havepassed. As to the Perseverance line, it is a large double line, whichdoes 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 twomiles and a quarter which constitute the total length of the line, andit is inconceivable that an unexpected train could have come down therewithout attracting universal attention. It may be remarked in conclusionthat this branch line is nearer to St. Helens than the point at whichthe engine-driver was discovered, so that we have every reason tobelieve that the train was past that point before misfortune overtookher.

  “As to John Slater, there is no clue to be gathered from his appearanceor injuries. We can only say that, so far as we can see, he met his endby falling off his engine, though why he fell, or what became of theengine after his fall, is a question upon which I do not feel qualifiedto offer an opinion.” In conclusion, the inspector offered hisresignation to the Board, being much nettled by an accusation ofincompetence in the London papers.

  A month elapsed, during which both the police and the company prosecutedtheir inquiries without the slightest success. A reward was offered anda pardon promised in case of crime, but they were both unclaimed. Everyday the public opened their papers with the conviction that so grotesquea mystery would at last be solved, but week after week passed by, and asolution remained as far off as ever. In broad daylight, upon a Juneafternoon in the most thickly inhabited portion of England, a train withits occupants had disappeared as completely as if some master of subtlechemistry had volatilized it into gas. Indeed, among the variousconjectures which were put forward in the public Press there were somewhich seriously asserted that supernatural, or, at least, preternatural,agencies had been at work, and that the deformed Monsieur Caratal wasprobably a person who was better known under a less polite name. Othersfixed upon his swarthy companion as being the author of the mischief,but what it was exactly which he had done could never be clearlyformulated in words.

  Amongst the many suggestions put forward by various newspapers orprivate individuals, there were one or two which were feasible enough toattract the attention of the public. One which appeared in the _Times_,over the signature of an amateur reasoner of some celebrity at thatdate, attempted to deal with the matter in a critical andsemi-scientific manner. An extract must suffice, although the curiouscan see the whole letter in the issue of the 3rd of July.

  “It is one of the elementary principles of practical reasoning,” heremarked, “that when the impossible has been eliminated the residuum,_however improbable_, must contain the truth. It is certain that thetrain left Kenyon Junction. It is certain that it did not reach BartonMoss. It is in the highest degree unlikely, but still possible, that itmay have taken one of the seven available side lines. It is obviouslyimpossible for a train to run where there are no rails, and, therefore,we may reduce our improbables to the three open lines, namely, theCarnstock Iron Works, the Big Ben, and the Perseverance. Is there asecret society of colliers, an English _camorra_, which is capable ofdestroying both train and passengers? It is improbable, but it is notimpossible. I confess that I am unable to suggest any othe
r solution. Ishould certainly advise the company to direct all their energies towardsthe observation of those three lines, and of the workmen at the end ofthem. A careful supervision of the pawnbrokers’ shops of the districtmight possibly bring some suggestive facts to light.”

  The suggestion coming from a recognized authority upon such matterscreated considerable interest, and a fierce opposition from those whoconsidered such a statement to be a preposterous libel upon an honestand deserving set of men. The only answer to this criticism was achallenge to the objectors to lay any more feasible explanation beforethe public. In reply to this two others were forthcoming (_Times_, July7th and 9th). The first suggested that the train might have run off themetals and be lying submerged in the Lancashire and Staffordshire Canal,which runs parallel to the railway for some hundreds of yards. Thissuggestion was thrown out of court by the published depth of the canal,which was entirely insufficient to conceal so large an object. Thesecond correspondent wrote calling attention to the bag which appearedto be the sole luggage which the travellers had brought with them, andsuggesting that some novel explosive of immense and pulverizing powermight have been concealed in it. The obvious absurdity, however, ofsupposing that the whole train might be blown to dust while the metalsremained uninjured reduced any such explanation to a farce. Theinvestigation had drifted into this hopeless position when a new andmost unexpected incident occurred.

  This was nothing less than the receipt by Mrs. McPherson of a letterfrom her husband, James McPherson, who had been the guard of the missingtrain. The letter, which was dated July 5th, 1890, was posted from NewYork, and came to hand upon July 14th. Some doubts were expressed as toits genuine character, but Mrs. McPherson was positive as to thewriting, and the fact that it contained a remittance of a hundreddollars in five-dollar notes was enough in itself to discount the ideaof 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 tothe clearing up of the whole matter, the more so as it was ascertainedthat a passenger who bore a close resemblance to the missing guard hadtravelled from Southampton under the name of Summers in the Hamburg andNew York liner _Vistula_, which started upon the 7th of June. Mrs.McPherson and her sister Lizzie Dolton went across to New York asdirected, and stayed for three weeks at the Johnston House, withouthearing anything from the missing man. It is probable that someinjudicious comments in the Press may have warned him that the policewere using them as a bait. However this may be, it is certain that heneither wrote nor came, and the women were eventually compelled toreturn to Liverpool.

  And so the matter stood, and has continued to stand up to the presentyear of 1898. Incredible as it may seem, nothing has transpired duringthese eight years which has shed the least light upon the extraordinarydisappearance of the special train which contained Monsieur Caratal andhis companion. Careful inquiries into the antecedents of the twotravellers have only established the fact that Monsieur Caratal was wellknown as a financier and political agent in Central America, and thatduring his voyage to Europe he had betrayed extraordinary anxiety toreach Paris. His companion, whose name was entered upon the passengerlists as Eduardo Gomez, was a man whose record was a violent one, andwhose reputation was that of a bravo and a bully. There was evidence toshow, however, that he was honestly devoted to the interests of MonsieurCaratal, and that the latter, being a man of puny physique, employed theother as a guard and protector. It may be added that no information camefrom Paris as to what the objects of Monsieur Caratal’s hurried journeymay have been. This comprises all the facts of the case up to thepublication in the Marseilles papers of the recent confession of Herbertde Lernac, now under sentence of death for the murder of a merchantnamed 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 whichare quite as splendid; but I do it in order that certain gentlemen inParis may understand that I, who am able here to tell about the fate ofMonsieur Caratal, can also tell in whose interest and at whose requestthe deed was done, unless the reprieve which I am awaiting comes to mevery quickly. Take warning, messieurs, before it is too late! You knowHerbert de Lernac, and you are aware that his deeds are as ready as hiswords. Hasten then, or you are lost!

  “At present I shall mention no names—if you only heard the names, whatwould 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 menow. I hope so, and until I am convinced that they have betrayed me,these names, which would convulse Europe, shall not be divulged. But onthat 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. Howmonstrous that scandal was can never be known save by such confidentialagents as myself. The honour and careers of many of the chief men inFrance were at stake. You have seen a group of nine-pins standing, allso rigid, and prim, and unbending. Then there comes the ball from faraway and pop, pop, pop—there are your nine-pins on the floor. Well,imagine some of the greatest men in France as these nine-pins, and thenthis Monsieur Caratal was the ball which could be seen coming from faraway. If he arrived, then it was pop, pop, pop for all of them. It wasdetermined 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 politicalinterests at stake, and a syndicate was formed to manage the business.Some subscribed to the syndicate who hardly understood what were itsobjects. But others understood very well, and they can rely upon it thatI have not forgotten their names. They had ample warning that MonsieurCaratal was coming long before he left South America, and they knew thatthe evidence which he held would certainly mean ruin to all of them. Thesyndicate had the command of an unlimited amount of money—absolutelyunlimited, you understand. They looked round for an agent who wascapable of wielding this gigantic power. The man chosen must beinventive, resolute, adaptive—a man in a million. They chose Herbert deLernac, and I admit that they were right.

  “My duties were to choose my subordinates, to use freely the power whichmoney gives, and to make certain that Monsieur Caratal should neverarrive in Paris. With characteristic energy I set about my commissionwithin an hour of receiving my instructions, and the steps which I tookwere the very best for the purpose which could possibly be devised.

  “A man whom I could trust was dispatched instantly to South America totravel home with Monsieur Caratal. Had he arrived in time the ship wouldnever have reached Liverpool; but, alas! it had already started beforemy agent could reach it. I fitted out a small armed brig to interceptit, but again I was unfortunate. Like all great organizers I was,however, prepared for failure, and had a series of alternativesprepared, one or the other of which must succeed. You must not underratethe difficulties of my undertaking, or imagine that a mere commonplaceassassination would meet the case. We must destroy not only MonsieurCaratal, but Monsieur Caratal’s documents, and Monsieur Caratal’scompanions also, if we had reason to believe that he had communicatedhis 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 inevery way worthy of me, for I am always most masterful where anotherwould be appalled.

  “I was all ready for Monsieur Caratal’s reception in Liverpool, and Iwas the more eager because I had reason to believe that he had madearrangements by which he would have a considerable guard from the momentthat he arrived in London. Anything which was to be done must be donebetween the moment of his setting foot upon the Liverpool quay and thatof his arrival at the London and West Coast terminus in London. Weprepared six plans, each more elaborate than the last; which plan wouldbe used would depend upon his own movements. Do what he would, we wereready for him. If he had stayed in Liverpool, we were ready. If he tookan ordinary train, an express, or a special, all was ready. Everythinghad been foreseen and provided for.

  “You may imagine that I could not do all this myself. What could I knowof the English railway lines? But money can procure willing agents allthe world over, and I soon had one of the acutest brains in England toassist me. I will mention no names, but it would be unjust to claim allthe credit for myself. My English ally was worthy of such an alliance.He knew the London and West Coast line thoroughly, and he had thecommand of a band of workers who were trustworthy and intelligent. Theidea was his, and my own judgment was only required in the details. Webought over several officials, amongst whom the most important was JamesMcPherson, whom we had ascertained to be the guard most likely to beemployed upon a special train. Smith, the stoker, was also in ouremploy. John Slater, the engine-driver, had been approached, but hadbeen found to be obstinate and dangerous, so we desisted. We had nocertainty that Monsieur Caratal would take a special, but we thought itvery probable, for it was of the utmost importance to him that he shouldreach Paris without delay. It was for this contingency, therefore, thatwe made special preparations—preparations which were complete down tothe last detail long before his steamer had sighted the shores ofEngland. You will be amused to learn that there was one of my agents inthe pilot-boat which brought that steamer to its moorings.

  “The moment that Caratal arrived in Liverpool we knew that he suspecteddanger and was on his guard. He had brought with him as an escort adangerous fellow, named Gomez, a man who carried weapons, and wasprepared to use them. This fellow carried Caratal’s confidential papersfor him, and was ready to protect either them or his master. Theprobability was that Caratal had taken him into his counsels, and thatto remove Caratal without removing Gomez would be a mere waste ofenergy. 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 aspecial train. On that special train you will understand that two out ofthe three servants of the company were really in our employ, at a pricewhich would make them independent for a lifetime. I do not go so far asto say that the English are more honest than any other nation, but Ihave found them more expensive to buy.

  “I have already spoken of my English agent—who is a man with aconsiderable future before him, unless some complaint of the throatcarries him off before his time. He had charge of all arrangements atLiverpool, whilst I was stationed at the inn at Kenyon, where I awaiteda cipher signal to act. When the special was arranged for, my agentinstantly telegraphed to me and warned me how soon I should haveeverything ready. He himself under the name of Horace Moore appliedimmediately for a special also, in the hope that he would be sent downwith Monsieur Caratal, which might under certain circumstances have beenhelpful to us. If, for example, our great _coup_ had failed, it wouldthen have become the duty of my agent to have shot them both anddestroyed their papers. Caratal was on his guard, however, and refusedto admit any other traveller. My agent then left the station, returnedby another entrance, entered the guard’s van on the side farthest fromthe 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 finishingtouches were needed. The side line which we had chosen had once joinedthe main line, but it had been disconnected. We had only to replace afew rails to connect it once more. These rails had been laid down as faras could be done without danger of attracting attention, and now it wasmerely a case of completing a juncture with the line, and arranging thepoints as they had been before. The sleepers had never been removed, andthe rails, fish-plates, and rivets were all ready, for we had taken themfrom a siding on the abandoned portion of the line. With my small butcompetent band of workers, we had everything ready long before thespecial arrived. When it did arrive, it ran off upon the small side lineso easily that the jolting of the points appears to have been entirelyunnoticed by the two travellers.

  “Our plan had been that Smith the stoker should chloroform John Slaterthe driver, so that he should vanish with the others. In this respect,and in this respect only, our plans miscarried—I except the criminalfolly of McPherson in writing home to his wife. Our stoker did hisbusiness 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 thefall, still he remained as a blot upon that which would otherwise havebeen one of those complete masterpieces which are only to becontemplated in silent admiration. The criminal expert will find in JohnSlater the one flaw in all our admirable combinations. A man who has hadas many triumphs as I can afford to be frank, and I therefore lay myfinger upon John Slater, and I proclaim him to be a flaw.

  “But now I have got our special train upon the small line twokilomètres, or rather more than one mile, in length, which leads, orrather used to lead, to the abandoned Heartsease mine, once one of thelargest coal mines in England. You will ask how it is that no one sawthe train upon this unused line. I answer that along its entire lengthit runs through a deep cutting, and that, unless some one had been onthe 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 youwhat I saw.

  “My assistant had remained at the points in order that he mightsuperintend the switching off of the train. He had four armed men withhim, 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 fallback upon. Having once seen it safely on the side line, he handed overthe responsibility to me. I was waiting at a point which overlooks themouth of the mine, and I was also armed, as were my two companions. Comewhat might, you see, I was always ready.

  “The moment that the train was fairly on the side line, Smith, thestoker, slowed-down the engine, and then, having turned it on to thefullest speed again, he and McPherson, with my English lieutenant,sprang off before it was too late. It may be that it was thisslowing-down which first attracted the attention of the travellers, butthe train was running at full speed again before their heads appeared atthe open window. It makes me smile to think how bewildered they musthave been. Picture to yourself your own feelings if, on looking out ofyour luxurious carriage, you suddenly perceived that the lines uponwhich you ran were rusted and corroded, red and yellow with disuse anddecay! What a catch must have come in their breath as in a second itflashed upon them that it was not Manchester but Death which was waitingfor them at the end of that sinister line. But the train was runningwith frantic speed, rolling and rocking over the rotten line, while thewheels made a frightful screaming sound upon the rusted surface. I wasclose to them, and could see their faces. Caratal was praying, Ithink—there was something like a rosary dangling out of his hand. Theother roared like a bull who smells the blood of the slaughter-house. Hesaw us standing on the bank, and he beckoned to us like a madman. Thenhe tore at his wrist and threw his dispatch-box out of the window in ourdirection. Of course, his meaning was obvious. Here was the evidence,and they would promise to be silent if their lives were spared. It wouldhave been very agreeable if we could have done so, but business isbusiness. Besides, the train was now as much beyond our control astheirs.

  “He ceased howling when the train rattled round the curve and they sawthe black mouth of the mine yawning bef
ore them. We had removed theboards which had covered it, and we had cleared the square entrance. Therails had formerly run very close to the shaft for the convenience ofloading the coal, and we had only to add two or three lengths of rail inorder to lead to the very brink of the shaft. In fact, as the lengthswould 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 theyhad both been struck silent by what they saw. And yet they could notwithdraw their heads. The sight seemed to have paralyzed them.

  “I had wondered how the train running at a great speed would take thepit into which I had guided it, and I was much interested in watchingit. One of my colleagues thought that it would actually jump it, andindeed it was not very far from doing so. Fortunately, however, it fellshort, and the buffers of the engine struck the other lip of the shaftwith a tremendous crash. The funnel flew off into the air. The tender,carriages, and van were all smashed up into one jumble, which, with theremains 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, woodwork, and cushions allcrumbled together and crashed down into the mine. We heard the rattle,rattle, rattle, as the _débris_ struck against the walls, and then quitea long time afterwards there came a deep roar as the remains of thetrain struck the bottom. The boiler may have burst, for a sharp crashcame after the roar, and then a dense cloud of steam and smoke swirledup out of the black depths, falling in a spray as thick as rain allround us. Then the vapour shredded off into thin wisps, which floatedaway in the summer sunshine, and all was quiet again in the Heartseasemine.

  “And now, having carried out our plans so successfully, it only remainedto leave no trace behind us. Our little band of workers at the other endhad already ripped up the rails and disconnected the side line,replacing everything as it had been before. We were equally busy at themine. The funnel and other fragments were thrown in, the shaft wasplanked over as it used to be, and the lines which led to it were tornup and taken away. Then, without flurry, but without delay, we all madeour way out of the country, most of us to Paris, my English colleague toManchester, and McPherson to Southampton, whence he emigrated toAmerica. Let the English papers of that date tell how thoroughly we haddone our work, and how completely we had thrown the cleverest of theirdetectives 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 myemployers. It may interest my employers now, however, to learn that outof that bag I took one or two little papers as a souvenir of theoccasion. I have no wish to publish these papers; but, still, it isevery man for himself in this world, and what else can I do if myfriends will not come to my aid when I want them? Messieurs, you maybelieve that Herbert de Lernac is quite as formidable when he is againstyou as when he is with you, and that he is not a man to go to theguillotine until he has seen that every one of you is _en route_ for NewCaledonia. For your own sake, if not for mine, make haste, Monsieurde ——, and General ——, and Baron —— (you can fill up the blanks foryourselves as you read this). I promise you that in the next editionthere will be no blanks to fill.

  “P.S.—As I look over my statement there is only one omission which I cansee. It concerns the unfortunate man McPherson, who was foolish enoughto write to his wife and to make an appointment with her in New York. Itcan be imagined that when interests like ours were at stake, we couldnot leave them to the chance of whether a man in that class of lifewould or would not give away his secrets to a woman. Having once brokenhis oath by writing to his wife, we could not trust him any more. Wetook steps therefore to insure that he should not see his wife. I havesometimes thought that it would be a kindness to write to her and toassure her that there is no impediment to her marrying again.”