It is not Popof, for he would have brought his lantern.
I try to recognize the people who have just entered. It is difficult.
They have glided between the packages, and after opening the further
door, they have gone out and shut it behind them.
They are some of the passengers, evidently; but why here--at this hour?
I must know. I have a presentiment that something is in the wind
Perhaps by listening?
I approach the front door of the van, and in spite of the rumbling of
the train I hear them distinctly enough--
Thousand and ten thousand devils! I am not mistaken! It is the voice of
my lord Faruskiar. He is talking with Ghangir in Russian. It is indeed
Faruskiar. The four Mongols have accompanied him. But what are they
doing there? For what motive are they on the platform which is just
behind the tender? And what are they saying?
What they are saying is this.
Of these questions and answers exchanged between my lord Faruskiar and
his companions, I do not lose a word.
"When shall we be at the junction?"
"In a few minutes."
"Are you sure that Kardek is at the points?"
"Yes; that has been arranged."
What had been arranged? And who is this Kardek they are talking about?
The conversation continues.
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