March 31, 2025 • 27 mins
Tales of Terror and Mystery is a spine-tingling collection of short stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, masterfully blending suspense, horror, and the unexplained. Divided into two parts—Tales of Terror and Tales of Mystery—the book explores eerie encounters, unsettling twists, and haunting atmospheres. From psychological thrills to scientific enigmas, Doyle steps beyond his famous detective tales to deliver chilling narratives that captivate and disturb. Perfect for fans of classic gothic fiction and supernatural suspense, this collection reveals a darker, more mysterious side of Doyle’s literary genius. For more thrilling content and engaging podcasts, visit https://www.quietperiodplease.com/.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Tales of Terror and Mystery by Arthur Conan Doyle, the
Lass Special. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings
are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer,
please visit LibriVox dot org. The confession of Herbert de Larnac,
now lying under sentence of death at Marseilles, has thrown
a light upon one of the most inexplicable crimes of
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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
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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 had
been courteously put at my disposal. Briefly, they are as follows.
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On the third of June eighteen ninety, a gentleman who
gave his name as Monsieur Louis Caraatel, desired an interview
with mister 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 was suggested some deformity of the spine.
He was accompanied by a friend, a man of imposing physique,
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whose differential manner and constant attention showed that his position
was one of dependants. 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
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office that this box was fastened to his wrist by strap.
No importance was attached to the fact at the time,
but subsequent events endowbt it with some significance. Monsieur Caratelleho
was shown up to mister Bland's office while his companion
remained outside. Monsieur Cartell'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
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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. Mister Bland
struck the electric bell, summoned mister 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
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take that time to ensure that the lines should be clear.
The powerful engine, called Ruschdale number two forty seven 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
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class smoking. The first compartment, which was nearest to the engine,
was the one allotted to the travelers. The other three
were empty. The guard of the special train was James
mc pherson, who had been some years in the service
of the company. The stoker, William Smith, was a new hand.
Monsieur Cattel, upon leaving the Superintendent's office, rejoined his companion
in both of The manifested extreme impatience to be off.
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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 Cattel
had just quitted. A request for a specialist not a
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very uncommon circumstance in a rich commercial center, but that
two should be required upon the same afternoon was most unusual.
It so happened, however, that mister Bland had hardly dismissed
the first traveler before a second entered with a similar request.
This was a mister 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.
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His distress and anxiety were so evident that mister Bland
did all that was possible to meet his wishes. A
second special was out of the question, as the ordinary
local Stoervis was already somewhat deranged by the first. There
was the alternative, however, that mister Moore should share the
expense of Monster Carrotel's train and should travel in the
other empty first class compartment, if Monsieur Caratel objected to
having him in the one which he occupied. It was
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difficult to see any objection to such an arrangement. And
yet Monsieur Carotell, upon the suggestion being made to him
by mister 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. Mister Horace Moore left the station
in great distress after learning that his only course was
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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 monster Carotel 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
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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 Saint Helens, which is a third
of the way between the two cities, elicited the following
reply to James Bland, Superintendent Central l and w C.
Liverpool Special passed here at four fifty two, well up
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to time Dowstair, Saint Helen's This telegram was received at
six forty. At six point fifty a second message was
received from Manchester. No sign of special is advised by you,
and then ten minutes later a third, more bewildering. Presume
some mistake is to propose running a special local train
from Saint Helen's time to follow. It has just arrived
and has seen nothing of it. Kindly wired, advices Manchester.
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The matter was assuming a most amazing aspect, although in
some respects the last telegram was relieved 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 training get passed. Such an explanation was
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possible if some small repair had to be effected. A
telegram was dispatched to each of the stations between Saint
Helens and Manchester, and the superintendent and traffic manager waited,
in the utmost suspense at the instrument for their series
of replies, which enabled 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 Saint Helens In Special Past
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here five o'clock, Collins Green Special Past here, six past five,
Earlstown Special Past here five ten, Newton Special Past here
five twenty 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
mister Bland. Absolutely unprecedented and inexplicable, Sir. The special has
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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 medals. But how could the four to thirty Parliamentary
pass over the same line without observing it. There's no alternative,
mister 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,
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and to Kenyon Junction with instructions that the line be
examined instantly. As far as Barton Moss. The answer for
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 mister Bland grimly. There's been a
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wreck and they have missed it. The specialists obviously run
off the metals without disturbing the line. How could it
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 mister 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.
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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. Mister Bland tore his hair in
his perplexity. This is rank lunacyhood, he cried, does a
train vanished into Thaneer, England and broad daylight? The thing
is preposterous. An engine, a tender, two carriages, a van,
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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 Slatter, 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
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fallen from his engine, pitched down the embankment and rolled
among the bushes. Injuries to his head from the fall
appeared 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 political crisis, and the attention of the public
was further distracted by the important and sensational developments in Paris,
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where a huge scandal threatened to destroy the government and
direct 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
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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.
Mister 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
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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 search of railway. Between these two points,
said he. The country is dotted with ironworks and collieries.
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Of these, some are being worked and some have been abandoned.
There are no fewer than twelve which have small gauge
lines which run trolley 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 centers of distribution. In every case
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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 their Red Gauntlet, Hero, Slough of Despond and
Heartsea's 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,
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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 Bin Collery, and C to the
Preseverance collery. Of these, the big Bin line is not
more than a quarter of a mile long, and ins
at a day wall of coal waiting removal from the
mouth of the mine. Nothing had been seen or heard
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there of any special. The Car and Stock Iron Works
line was blocked all day upon the third 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 third of June, this traffic proceeded as usual. Hundreds
of men, including a gang of railway plate layers, were
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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 near to Saint 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,
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there is no clue to be gathered from his appearance
or injuries. We can only say that, so far as
we 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
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month elapse 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 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 June afternoon, in the most thickly inhabited portion
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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 perternatural agencies had
been at work, and that the deformed Monsieur Caratel was
probably a person who was better known under a less
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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
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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 third 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
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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 sidelines. 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 Kronstock Ironworks, the Big Bin and
the Perseverance. Is there a secret society of colliers in
English Camorra which is capable of destroying both train and
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passengers is proba, 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 pawnbroker's shops of the district might possibly bring some
suggestivefects to life. The suggestion, coming from a recognized authority
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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
seventh and ninth. The first suggested that the train might
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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. The 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 sol luggage which the travelers had
brought with them, and suggesting that some novel explosive of
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immense im pulverizing power might have been concealed in it.
The obvious absurdity, however, supposing that the whole train might
be blown to dust while the medals 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
Missus McPherson of a letter from her husband, James McPherson,
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who had been the guard on the missing train. The letter,
which was dated July fifth, eighteen ninety, was posted from
New York and came to Handibhond July fourteenth. Some doubts
were expressed as to its genuine character, but missus McPherson
was positive as to the writing, and the fact that
it contained a remittance of one hundred dollars and five
dollar notes was enough in itself to discount the idea
of a hoax. No address was given in the letter,
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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 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
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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 traveled
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from Southampton under the name of Summers in the Hamburg
and New York line of Vistula, which started upon the
seventh of June. Missus McPherson and her sister, Lizzie Dalton
went across to New York as directed, and stayed for
three weeks at Johnston House without hearing anything from the
missing man. It is probable that some in judicious comments
in the press may have warned him that the police
were using them as bait. However this may be, it
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is certain that he neither wrote nor came, and the
women were eventually compelled to return to Liverpool. Stood and
has continued to stand up to the present year of
eighteen ninety eight. Incredibles. 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 Caratelle and his companion. Careful inquiries into the antecedents
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of the two travelers. Have only established the fact that
Monsieux Carotell 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 at Guardo Gomez,
was a man whose record was a violent one and
whose reputation was that of a bravo and a bully.
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There was evidence to show, however, that he was honestly
devoted to the interests of Monsieur Caroatel, and that the latter,
being a man of puny Fysique, 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 Caratell's hurried journey may have been. This comprises all
the facts of the case up to the publication in
the Marseilles paper of the recent confession of Herbert de Lnac,
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now under sentence of death for the murder of a
merchant named Bonvolot. 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 Carottel,
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can also tell on whose interests and in whose request
the deed was done, unless the reprieve which I am awaiting,
comes to me very quickly, Take warning, messrs before it
is too late. You know Herbert de Larnac, 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
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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 eighteen ninety
in connection with the monstrous scandal and politics and finance.
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How monstrous that scandal was can never be known save
by such confidential agents as myself. The honor and careers
of many of the chief men in France were at stake.
You have seen a group of nine pins standing also
rigid and prim and unbinding. Then there comes the ball
from far away, and pup, pup, pup. There are your
nine pins on the floor. Well, imagine some of the
greatest men in France as the nine pins. And then
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this Monsieur Cattel, was the ball which could be seen
coming from far away. If he arrived, then it was pup, pup, pup.
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
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subscribe 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 Catotel was coming long before he
left South America, and they knew that the evidence which
he ha 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
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who was capable of wielding this gigantic power. The man
chose and must be inventive, resolute, adaptive, a man and
a million. They chose Herbert de Lnac, 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 Cattel should never arrive in Paris.
With characteristic energy. I set about my commission within an
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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 Caratel.
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
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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 of the which
must succeed. You must not underrate the difficulties of my undertaking,
or imagine that a mere commonplace assassination would meet the case.
I accept the criminal folly of Macpherson, in riding home
to his wife. Our stoker did his business so clumsily
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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 here 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
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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 small
line two kilometers are rather more than one mile in length,
which leads, or rather used to lead to the abandoned
Hertze's mind. 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 answered that along
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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
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very rusty, we might still have resources to fall back upon.
Having once seen it safely on the sideline, 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 sideline, Smith the Stoker
slowed down the engine, and then, having turned it on
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to the fullest speed again, he and Macpherson 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 travelers, 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 Luxuria carriage, he suddenly perceived
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that the lines upon which he ran were rested 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
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was close to them and could see their faces. Catatael
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. There 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
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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 around the curve
and they saw the black mouth of the mine yawning
before them. We'd 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
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of loading the coal, and we had only to add
two or three links of rail in order to lead
to the very brink of the shaft. In fact, as
the links would not quite fit, our line projected about
three feet over the edge. We saw the two heads
at the window, Carotel 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 paralyzed them. I had wondered how the train, running
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at a great speed, would take the pitch 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 engines 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,
(24:48):
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 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 afterward
there came a deep roar as the remains of the
train struck the bottom. The boiler may have burst, for
(25:09):
a sharp crash came after the war, 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 around us. Then the vapor shredded off into
thin wisps which floated away in the summer sunshine, and
all was quiet again in the heart ceased mine, and
now having carried out our plans so successfully, it only
remained to leave no trace behind us. Our little band
(25:30):
of workers at the other end had already ripped up
the rails and disconnected the sideline, replacing everything as it
had been before. We were equally busy at that time.
The funnel and other fragments were thrown in, the shaft
was planked over as it was 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 to the country, most of us
to Paris, my English colleague to Manchester, and Macpherson to Southampton,
(25:52):
whence he emigrated to America. Let the English papers of
that date tell you how thoroughly we had done our work,
and how completely we had thrown the cleverest of their
detective off our track. You will remember that Gomes 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.
(26:14):
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. Missus, you
may believe that Herbert de Lenac 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,
(26:36):
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 Macpherson,
who is foolish enough to write to his wife and
(26:57):
to make an appointment with her in New York. It
can we imagine 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
trust him no more. We took steps there forth to
ensure that he should not see his wife. I have
sometimes thought it would be a kindness to write to her,
(27:18):
and to assure her that there is no impediment to
her marrying again. End of the Lass, Special by Arthur
Conan Doyle
Tales of Terror and Mystery by Arthur Conan Doyle, the
Lass Special. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings
are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer,
please visit LibriVox dot org. The confession of Herbert de Larnac,
now lying under sentence of death at Marseilles, has thrown
a light upon one of the most inexplicable crimes of
(00:21):
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
(00:41):
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 had
been courteously put at my disposal. Briefly, they are as follows.
(01:05):
On the third of June eighteen ninety, a gentleman who
gave his name as Monsieur Louis Caraatel, desired an interview
with mister 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 was suggested some deformity of the spine.
He was accompanied by a friend, a man of imposing physique,
(01:25):
whose differential manner and constant attention showed that his position
was one of dependants. 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
(01:46):
office that this box was fastened to his wrist by strap.
No importance was attached to the fact at the time,
but subsequent events endowbt it with some significance. Monsieur Caratelleho
was shown up to mister Bland's office while his companion
remained outside. Monsieur Cartell'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
(02:08):
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. Mister Bland
struck the electric bell, summoned mister 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
(02:28):
take that time to ensure that the lines should be clear.
The powerful engine, called Ruschdale number two forty seven 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
(02:48):
class smoking. The first compartment, which was nearest to the engine,
was the one allotted to the travelers. The other three
were empty. The guard of the special train was James
mc pherson, who had been some years in the service
of the company. The stoker, William Smith, was a new hand.
Monsieur Cattel, upon leaving the Superintendent's office, rejoined his companion
in both of The manifested extreme impatience to be off.
(03:09):
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 Cattel
had just quitted. A request for a specialist not a
(03:30):
very uncommon circumstance in a rich commercial center, but that
two should be required upon the same afternoon was most unusual.
It so happened, however, that mister Bland had hardly dismissed
the first traveler before a second entered with a similar request.
This was a mister 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.
(03:52):
His distress and anxiety were so evident that mister Bland
did all that was possible to meet his wishes. A
second special was out of the question, as the ordinary
local Stoervis was already somewhat deranged by the first. There
was the alternative, however, that mister Moore should share the
expense of Monster Carrotel's train and should travel in the
other empty first class compartment, if Monsieur Caratel objected to
having him in the one which he occupied. It was
(04:13):
difficult to see any objection to such an arrangement. And
yet Monsieur Carotell, upon the suggestion being made to him
by mister 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. Mister Horace Moore left the station
in great distress after learning that his only course was
(04:34):
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 monster Carotel 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
(04:56):
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 Saint Helens, which is a third
of the way between the two cities, elicited the following
reply to James Bland, Superintendent Central l and w C.
Liverpool Special passed here at four fifty two, well up
(05:19):
to time Dowstair, Saint Helen's This telegram was received at
six forty. At six point fifty a second message was
received from Manchester. No sign of special is advised by you,
and then ten minutes later a third, more bewildering. Presume
some mistake is to propose running a special local train
from Saint Helen's time to follow. It has just arrived
and has seen nothing of it. Kindly wired, advices Manchester.
(05:42):
The matter was assuming a most amazing aspect, although in
some respects the last telegram was relieved 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 training get passed. Such an explanation was
(06:03):
possible if some small repair had to be effected. A
telegram was dispatched to each of the stations between Saint
Helens and Manchester, and the superintendent and traffic manager waited,
in the utmost suspense at the instrument for their series
of replies, which enabled 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 Saint Helens In Special Past
(06:23):
here five o'clock, Collins Green Special Past here, six past five,
Earlstown Special Past here five ten, Newton Special Past here
five twenty 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
mister Bland. Absolutely unprecedented and inexplicable, Sir. The special has
(06:45):
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 medals. But how could the four to thirty Parliamentary
pass over the same line without observing it. There's no alternative,
mister 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,
(07:07):
and to Kenyon Junction with instructions that the line be
examined instantly. As far as Barton Moss. The answer for
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 mister Bland grimly. There's been a
(07:29):
wreck and they have missed it. The specialists obviously run
off the metals without disturbing the line. How could it
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 mister 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.
(07:51):
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. Mister Bland tore his hair in
his perplexity. This is rank lunacyhood, he cried, does a
train vanished into Thaneer, England and broad daylight? The thing
is preposterous. An engine, a tender, two carriages, a van,
(08:14):
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 Slatter, 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
(08:36):
fallen from his engine, pitched down the embankment and rolled
among the bushes. Injuries to his head from the fall
appeared 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 political crisis, and the attention of the public
was further distracted by the important and sensational developments in Paris,
(08:56):
where a huge scandal threatened to destroy the government and
direct 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
(09:17):
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.
Mister 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
(09:39):
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 search of railway. Between these two points,
said he. The country is dotted with ironworks and collieries.
(09:59):
Of these, some are being worked and some have been abandoned.
There are no fewer than twelve which have small gauge
lines which run trolley 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 centers of distribution. In every case
(10:21):
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 their Red Gauntlet, Hero, Slough of Despond and
Heartsea's 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,
(10:43):
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 Bin Collery, and C to the
Preseverance collery. Of these, the big Bin line is not
more than a quarter of a mile long, and ins
at a day wall of coal waiting removal from the
mouth of the mine. Nothing had been seen or heard
(11:04):
there of any special. The Car and Stock Iron Works
line was blocked all day upon the third 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 third of June, this traffic proceeded as usual. Hundreds
of men, including a gang of railway plate layers, were
(11:25):
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 near to Saint 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,
(11:48):
there is no clue to be gathered from his appearance
or injuries. We can only say that, so far as
we 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
(12:09):
month elapse 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 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 June afternoon, in the most thickly inhabited portion
(12:32):
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 perternatural agencies had
been at work, and that the deformed Monsieur Caratel was
probably a person who was better known under a less
(12:52):
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
(13:15):
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 third 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
(13:36):
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 sidelines. 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 Kronstock Ironworks, the Big Bin and
the Perseverance. Is there a secret society of colliers in
English Camorra which is capable of destroying both train and
(13:58):
passengers is proba, 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 pawnbroker's shops of the district might possibly bring some
suggestivefects to life. The suggestion, coming from a recognized authority
(14:21):
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
seventh and ninth. The first suggested that the train might
(14:42):
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. The 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 sol luggage which the travelers had
brought with them, and suggesting that some novel explosive of
(15:04):
immense im pulverizing power might have been concealed in it.
The obvious absurdity, however, supposing that the whole train might
be blown to dust while the medals 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
Missus McPherson of a letter from her husband, James McPherson,
(15:26):
who had been the guard on the missing train. The letter,
which was dated July fifth, eighteen ninety, was posted from
New York and came to Handibhond July fourteenth. Some doubts
were expressed as to its genuine character, but missus McPherson
was positive as to the writing, and the fact that
it contained a remittance of one hundred dollars and five
dollar notes was enough in itself to discount the idea
of a hoax. No address was given in the letter,
(15:48):
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 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
(16:11):
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 traveled
(16:33):
from Southampton under the name of Summers in the Hamburg
and New York line of Vistula, which started upon the
seventh of June. Missus McPherson and her sister, Lizzie Dalton
went across to New York as directed, and stayed for
three weeks at Johnston House without hearing anything from the
missing man. It is probable that some in judicious comments
in the press may have warned him that the police
were using them as bait. However this may be, it
(16:54):
is certain that he neither wrote nor came, and the
women were eventually compelled to return to Liverpool. Stood and
has continued to stand up to the present year of
eighteen ninety eight. Incredibles. 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 Caratelle and his companion. Careful inquiries into the antecedents
(17:15):
of the two travelers. Have only established the fact that
Monsieux Carotell 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 at Guardo Gomez,
was a man whose record was a violent one and
whose reputation was that of a bravo and a bully.
(17:36):
There was evidence to show, however, that he was honestly
devoted to the interests of Monsieur Caroatel, and that the latter,
being a man of puny Fysique, 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 Caratell's hurried journey may have been. This comprises all
the facts of the case up to the publication in
the Marseilles paper of the recent confession of Herbert de Lnac,
(17:58):
now under sentence of death for the murder of a
merchant named Bonvolot. 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 Carottel,
(18:20):
can also tell on whose interests and in whose request
the deed was done, unless the reprieve which I am awaiting,
comes to me very quickly, Take warning, messrs before it
is too late. You know Herbert de Larnac, 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
(18:42):
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 eighteen ninety
in connection with the monstrous scandal and politics and finance.
(19:04):
How monstrous that scandal was can never be known save
by such confidential agents as myself. The honor and careers
of many of the chief men in France were at stake.
You have seen a group of nine pins standing also
rigid and prim and unbinding. Then there comes the ball
from far away, and pup, pup, pup. There are your
nine pins on the floor. Well, imagine some of the
greatest men in France as the nine pins. And then
(19:25):
this Monsieur Cattel, was the ball which could be seen
coming from far away. If he arrived, then it was pup, pup, pup.
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
(19:46):
subscribe 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 Catotel was coming long before he
left South America, and they knew that the evidence which
he ha 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
(20:09):
who was capable of wielding this gigantic power. The man
chose and must be inventive, resolute, adaptive, a man and
a million. They chose Herbert de Lnac, 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 Cattel should never arrive in Paris.
With characteristic energy. I set about my commission within an
(20:31):
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 Caratel.
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
(20:51):
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 of the which
must succeed. You must not underrate the difficulties of my undertaking,
or imagine that a mere commonplace assassination would meet the case.
I accept the criminal folly of Macpherson, in riding home
to his wife. Our stoker did his business so clumsily
(21:13):
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 here 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
(21:34):
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 small
line two kilometers are rather more than one mile in length,
which leads, or rather used to lead to the abandoned
Hertze's mind. 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 answered that along
(21:56):
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
(22:18):
very rusty, we might still have resources to fall back upon.
Having once seen it safely on the sideline, 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 sideline, Smith the Stoker
slowed down the engine, and then, having turned it on
(22:39):
to the fullest speed again, he and Macpherson 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 travelers, 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 Luxuria carriage, he suddenly perceived
(23:01):
that the lines upon which he ran were rested 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
(23:22):
was close to them and could see their faces. Catatael
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. There 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
(23:43):
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 around the curve
and they saw the black mouth of the mine yawning
before them. We'd 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
(24:03):
of loading the coal, and we had only to add
two or three links of rail in order to lead
to the very brink of the shaft. In fact, as
the links would not quite fit, our line projected about
three feet over the edge. We saw the two heads
at the window, Carotel 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 paralyzed them. I had wondered how the train, running
(24:26):
at a great speed, would take the pitch 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 engines 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,
(24:48):
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 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 afterward
there came a deep roar as the remains of the
train struck the bottom. The boiler may have burst, for
(25:09):
a sharp crash came after the war, 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 around us. Then the vapor shredded off into
thin wisps which floated away in the summer sunshine, and
all was quiet again in the heart ceased mine, and
now having carried out our plans so successfully, it only
remained to leave no trace behind us. Our little band
(25:30):
of workers at the other end had already ripped up
the rails and disconnected the sideline, replacing everything as it
had been before. We were equally busy at that time.
The funnel and other fragments were thrown in, the shaft
was planked over as it was 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 to the country, most of us
to Paris, my English colleague to Manchester, and Macpherson to Southampton,
(25:52):
whence he emigrated to America. Let the English papers of
that date tell you how thoroughly we had done our work,
and how completely we had thrown the cleverest of their
detective off our track. You will remember that Gomes 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.
(26:14):
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. Missus, you
may believe that Herbert de Lenac 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,
(26:36):
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 Macpherson,
who is foolish enough to write to his wife and
(26:57):
to make an appointment with her in New York. It
can we imagine 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
trust him no more. We took steps there forth to
ensure that he should not see his wife. I have
sometimes thought it would be a kindness to write to her,
(27:18):
and to assure her that there is no impediment to
her marrying again. End of the Lass, Special by Arthur
Conan Doyle
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