I begin to master my torpor. Staggering like a drunken man, I crawl to
Kinko's case. There, in a few words, I tell him what has passed, and I
exclaim:
"We are lost!"
"No--perhaps" he replies.
Before I can move, Kinko is out of his box. He rushes towards the front
door; he climbs on to the tender.
"Come along! Come along!" he shouts.
I do not know how I have done it, but here I am at his side, on the
foot-plate, my feet in the blood of the driver and stoker, who have
been thrown off on to the line.
Faruskiar and his accomplices are no longer here.
But before they went one of them has taken off the brakes, jammed down
the regulator to full speed, thrown fresh coals into the fire-box, and
the train is running with frightful velocity.
In a few minutes we shall reach the Tjon viaduct.
Kinko, energetic and resolute, is as cool as a cucumber. But in vain he
tries to move the regulator, to shut off the steam, to put on the
brake. These valves and levers, what shall we do with them?
"I must tell Popof!" I shout.
"And what can he do? No; there is only one way--"
"And what is that?"
"Rouse up the fire," says Kinko, calmly; "shut down the safety valves,
and blow up the engine.
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