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."





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