Havoc

  CHAPTER IV

  THE NIGHT TRAIN FROM VIENNA

  Dorwood, whistling softly to himself, sat in a corner of his couperolling innumerable cigarettes. He was a man of unbounded courageand wonderful resource, but with a slightly exaggerated idea asto the sanctity of an American citizen. He had served hisapprenticeship in his own country, and his name had become ahousehold word owing to his brilliant success as war correspondentin the Russo-Japanese War. His experience of European countries,however, was limited. After the more obvious dangers with whichhe had grappled and which he had overcome during his adventurouscareer, he was disposed to be a little contemptuous of the subtlerperils at which his friend Bellamy had plainly hinted. He had madehis escape from the hotel without any very serious difficulty, andsince that time, although he had taken no particular precautions,he had remained unmolested. From his own point of view, therefore,it was perhaps only reasonable that he should no longer have anymisgiving as to his personal safety. ARREST as a thief was theworst which he had feared. Even that he seemed now to have evaded.

  The coupe was exceedingly comfortable and, after all, he had had asomewhat exciting day. He lit a cigarette and stretched himselfout with a murmur of immense satisfaction. He was close upon thegreat triumph of his life. He was perfectly content to lie thereand look out upon the flying landscape, upon which the shadows werenow fast descending. He was safe, absolutely safe, he assuredhimself. Nevertheless, when the door of his coupe was opened, hestarted almost like a guilty man. The relief in his face as herecognized his visitor was obvious. It was Bellamy who enteredand dropped into a seat by his side.

  "Wasting your time, aren't you?" the latter remarked, pointing tothe growing heap of cigarettes.

  "Well, I guess not," Dorward answered. "I can smoke this lot beforewe reach London."

  Bellamy smiled enigmatically.

  "I don't think that you will," he said.

  "Why not?"

  "You are such a sanguine person," Bellamy sighed. "Personally, Ido not think that there is the slightest chance of your reachingLondon at all."

  Dorward laughed scornfully.

  "And why not?" he asked.

  Bellamy merely shrugged his shoulders. Dorward seemed to find thegesture irritating.

  "You've got espionage on the brain, my dear friend," he declareddryly. "I suppose it's the result of your profession. I may notknow so much about Europe as you do, but I am inclined to thinkthat an American citizen traveling with his passport on a trainlike this is moderately safe, especially when he's not above ascrap by way of taking care of himself."

  "You're a plucky fellow," remarked Bellamy.

  "I don't see any pluck about it. In Vienna, I must admit, Ishouldn't have been surprised if they'd tried to fake up some sortof charge against me, but anyhow they didn't. Guess they'd findit a pretty tall order trying to interfere with an American citizen."

  Bellamy looked at his friend curiously.

  "I suppose you're not bluffing, by any chance, Dorward?" he said."You really believe what you say?"

  "Why in thunder shouldn't I?" Dorward asked.

  Bellamy sighed.

  "My dear Dorward," he said, "it is amazing to me that a man of yourexperience should talk and behave like a baby. You've taken somenotice of your fellow-passengers, I suppose?"

  "I've seen a few of them," Dorward answered carelessly. "What aboutthem?"

  "Nothing much," Bellamy declared, "except that there are, to mycertain knowledge, three high officials of the Secret Police ofAustria in the next coupe but one, and at least four or five oftheir subordinates somewhere on board the train."

  Dorward withdrew his cigarette from his mouth and looked at hisfriend keenly.

  "I guess you're trying to scare me, Bellamy," he remarked.

  But Bellamy was suddenly grave. There had come into his face anutterly altered expression. His tone, when he spoke, was almostsolemn.

  "Dorward," he said, "upon my honor, I assure you that what I havetold you is the truth. I cannot seem to make you realize theseriousness of your position. When you left the Palace with thatpaper in your pocket, you were, to all intents and purposes, adoomed man. Your passport and your American citizenship count forabsolutely nothing. I have come in to warn you that if you haveany last messages to leave, you had better give them to me now."

  "This is a pretty good bluff you're putting up!" Dorward exclaimedcontemptuously. "The long and short of it is, I suppose, that youwant me to break the seal of this document and let you read it."

  Bellamy shook his head.

  "It is too late for that, Dorward," he said. "If the seal werebroken, they'd very soon guess where I came in, and it wouldn't helpthe work I have in hand for me to be picked up with a bullet in myforehead on the railway track."

  Dorward frowned uneasily.

  "What are you here for, anyway, then?" he asked.

  "Well, frankly, not to argue with you," Bellamy answered. "As amatter of fact, you are of no use to me any longer. I am sorry,old man. You can't say that I didn't give you good advice. I ambound to play for my own hand, though, in this matter, and if Iget any benefit at all out of my journey, it will be after someregrettable accident has happened to you."

  "Say, ring the bell for drinks and chuck this!" Dorward exclaimed."I've had about enough of it. I am not denying anything you say,but if these fellows really are on board, they'll think twicebefore they meddle with me."

  "On the contrary," Bellamy assured him, "they will not take thetrouble to think at all. Their minds are perfectly made up as towhat they are going to do. However, that's finished. I havenothing more to say."

  Dorward gazed for a minute or two fixedly out of the window.

  "Look here, Bellamy," he said, turning abruptly round, "supposingI change my mind, supposing I open this precious document and letyou read it over with me?"

  Bellamy rose hastily to his feet.

  "You must not think of it!" he exclaimed. "You would simplywrite my death-warrant. Don't allude to that matter again. Ihave risked enough in coming in here to sit with you."

  "Then, for Heaven's sake, don't stop any longer!" Dorward saidirritably. "You get on my nerves with all this foolish talk. Inan hour's time I am going to bolt my door and go to sleep. We'llbreakfast together in the morning, if you like."

  Bellamy said nothing. The steward had brought them the whiskiesand sodas which Dorward had ordered. Bellamy raised his tumblerto his lips and set it down again.

  "Forgive me," he said, "I do not think that I am thirsty."

  Dorward drank his off at a gulp. Almost immediately he closed hiseyes. Bellamy, with a little shrug of the shoulders, left himalone. As he passed along to his own coupe, he met Louise in thecorridor.

  "You have seen Von Behrling?" he whispered. She nodded.

  "He is in that coupe, number 7, alone," she said. "I invited himto come in with me but he seemed embarrassed. It is his companionswho watch him all the time. He has promised to talk with me later."

  In the middle of the night, Louise opened her eyes to find Bellamybending over her.

  "Louise," he whispered, "it is Von Behrling who will take possessionof the packet. They have been discussing whether it will not besafer to go on to London instead of doubling back. See Von Behrlingagain. Do all you can to persuade him to come to London,--all youcan, Louise, remember."

  "So!" she whispered. "I shall put on my dressing-gown and sit inthe corridor. It is hot here."

  Bellamy glided out, closing the door softly behind him. The trainwas rushing on now through the blackness of an unusually dark night.For some time he sat in his own compartment, listening. The voiceswhose muttered conversation he had overheard were silent now, butonce he fancied that he heard shuffling footsteps and a little cry.In his heart he knew well that before morning Dorward would havedisappeared. The man within him was hard to subdue. He longed tomake his way to Dorward's side, to interfere in this terriblyunequal struggle, yet
he made no movement. Dorward was a man and afriend, but what was a life more or less? It was to a greater causethat he was pledged. Towards three o'clock he lay down on his bedand slept....

  The train attendant brought him his coffee soon after daylight. Theman's hands were trembling.

  "Where are we?" Bellamy asked sleepily.

  "Near Munich, Monsieur," the man answered. "Monsieur noticed,perhaps, that we stopped for some time in the night?"

  Bellamy shook his head.

  "I sleep soundly," he said. "I heard nothing."

  "There has been an accident," the man declared. "An Americangentleman who got in at Vienna was drinking whiskey all night andbecame very drunk. In a tunnel he threw himself out upon the line."

  Bellamy shuddered a little. He had been prepared, but none theless it was an awful thing, this.

  "You are sure that he is dead?" he asked.

  The man was very sure indeed.

  "There is a doctor from Vienna upon the train, sir," he said. "Heexamined him at once, but death must have been instantaneous."

  Bellamy drew a long breath and commenced to put on his clothes.The next move was for him.