Authors: Claudius Bombarnac
Meanwhile different opinions were being exchanged on the gangways. Some
would rather travel with the millions than carry a corpse along with
them, even though it was that of a first-class mandarin. Others
considered the carrying of the treasure a danger to the passengers. And
that was the opinion of Baron Weissschnitzerdörfer in a furious attack
on Popof.
"You ought to have told us about it, sir, you ought to have told us
about it! Those millions are known to be in the train, and they will
tempt people to attack us. And an attack, even if repulsed, will mean
delay, and delay I will not submit to! No, sir, I will not!"
"No one will attack us," replied Popof. "No one will dream of doing it!"
"And how do you know that? how do you know that?"
"Be calm, pray."
"I will not be calm; and if there is a delay, I will hold the company
responsible!"
That is understood; a hundred thousand florins damages to Monsieur le
Baron Tour de Monde.
Let us pass to the other passengers.
Ephrinell looked at the matter, of course, from a very practical point
of view.
"There can be no doubt that our risks have been greatly increased by
this treasure, and in case of accident on account of it, the
Life
Travelers' Society
, in which I am insured, will, I expect, refuse to
pay, so that the Grand Transasiatic Company will have all the
responsibility."
"Of course," said Miss Bluett; "and if they had not found the missing
van the company would have been in a serious difficulty with China.
Would it not, Fulk?"
"Exactly, Horatia!"
Horatia and Fulk—nothing less.
The Anglo-American couple were right, the enormous loss would have had
to be borne by the Grand Transasiatic, for the company must have known
they were carrying a treasure and not a corpse—and thereby they were
responsible.
As to the Caternas, the millions rolling behind did not seem to trouble
them. The only reflection they inspired was, "Ah! Caroline, what a
splendid theater we might build with all that money!"
But the best thing was said by the Reverend Nathaniel Morse, who had
joined the train at Kachgar.
"It is never comfortable to be dragging a powder magazine after one!"
Nothing could be truer, and this van with its imperial treasure was a
powder magazine that might blow up our train.
The first railway was opened in China about 1877 and ran from Shanghai
to Fou-Tcheou. The Grand Transasiatic followed very closely the Russian
road proposed in 1874 by Tachkend, Kouldja, Kami, Lan Tcheou, Singan
and Shanghai. This railway did not run through the populous central
provinces which can be compared to vast and humming hives of bees—and
extaordinarily prolific bees. As before curving off to Lan Tcheou; it
reaches the great cities by the branches it gives out to the south and
southeast. Among others, one of these branches, that from Tai Youan to
Nanking, should have put these two towns of the Chan-Si and Chen-Toong
provinces into communication. But at present the branch is not ready
for opening, owing to an important viaduct not having finished building.
The completed portion gives me direct communication across Central
Asia. That is the main line of the Transasiatic. The engineers did not
find it so difficult of construction as General Annenkof did the
Transcaspian. The deserts of Kara Koum and Gobi are very much alike;
the same dead level, the same absence of elevations and depressions,
the same suitability for the iron road. If the engineers had had to
attack the enormous chain of the Kuen Lun, Nan Chan, Amie, Gangar Oola,
which forms the frontier of Tibet, the obstacles would have been such
that it would have taken a century to surmount them. But on a flat,
sandy plain the railway could be rapidly pushed on up to Lan Tcheou,
like a long Decauville of three thousand kilometres.
It is only in the vicinity of this city that the art of the engineer
has had a serious struggle with nature in the costly and troublesome
road through the provinces of Kan-Sou, Chan-Si and Petchili.
As we go along I must mention a few of the principal stations at which
the train stops to take in coal and water. On the right-hand side the
eye never tires of the distant horizon of mountains which bounds the
tableland of Tibet to the north. On the left the view is over the
interminable steppes of the Gobi. The combination of these territories
constitutes the Chinese Empire if not China proper, and we shall only
reach that when we are in the neighborhood of Lan Tcheou.
It would seem, therefore, as though the second part of the journey
would be rather uninteresting, unless we are favored with a few
startling incidents. But it seems to me that we are certainly in the
possession of the elements out of which something journalistic can be
made.
At eleven o'clock the train left Kothan station, and it was nearly two
o'clock in the afternoon when it reached Keria, having left behind the
small stations of Urang, Langar, Pola and Tschiria.
In 1889-90 this road was followed by Pevtsoff from Kothan to Lob-Nor at
the foot of the Kuen Lun, which divides Chinese Turkestan from Tibet.
The Russian traveler went by Keria, Nia, Tchertchen, as we are doing so
easily, but then his caravan had to contend with much danger and
difficulty—which did not prevent his reporting ten thousand kilometres
of surveys, without reckoning altitude and longitude observations of
the geographical points. It is an honor for the Russian government to
have thus continued the work of Prjevalsky.
From Keria station you can see to the southwest the heights of Kara
Korum and the peak of Dapsang, to which different geographers assign a
height of eight thousand metres. At its foot extends the province of
Kachmir. There the Indus rises in a number of inconsiderable sources
which feed one of the greatest rivers of the Peninsula. Thence from the
Pamir tableland extends the mighty range of the Himalaya, where rise
the highest summits on the face of the globe.
Since we left Kothan we have covered a hundred and fifty kilometres in
four hours. It is not a high rate of speed, but we cannot expect on
this part of the Transasiatic the same rate of traveling we experienced
on the Transcaspian. Either the Chinese engines are not so fast, or,
thanks to their natural indolence, the engine drivers imagine that from
thirty to forty miles an hour is the maximum that can be obtained on
the railways of the Celestial Empire.
At five o'clock in the afternoon we were at another station, Nia, where
General Pevtsoff established a meterological observatory. Here we
stopped only twenty minutes. I had time to lay in a few provisions at
the bar. For whom they were intended you can imagine.
The passengers we picked up were only Chinese, men and women. There
were only a few for the first class, and these only went short journeys.
We had not started a quarter of an hour when Ephrinell, with the
sferious manner of a merchant intent on some business, came up to me on
the gangway.
"Monsieur Bombarnac," he said, "I have to ask a favor of you."
Eh! I thought, this Yankee knows where to find me when he wants me.
"Only too happy, I can assure you," said I. "What is it about?"
"I want you to be a witness—"
"An affair of honor? And with whom, if you please?"
"Miss Horatia Bluett."
"You are going to fight Miss Bluett!" I exclaimed, with a laugh.
"Not yet. I am going to marry her."
"Marry her?"
"Yes! a treasure of a woman, well acquainted with business matters,
holding a splendid commission—"
"My compliments, Mr. Ephrinell! You can count on me—"
"And probably on M. Caterna?"
"He would like nothing better, and if there is a wedding breakfast he
will sing at your dessert—"
"As much as he pleases," replied the American. "And now for Miss
Bluett's witnesses."
"Quite so."
"Do you think Major Noltitz would consent?"
"A Russian is too gallant to refuse. I will ask him, if you like."
"Thank you in advance. As to the second witness, I am rather in a
difficulty. This Englishman, Sir Francis Trevellyan—"
"A shake of the head is all you will get from him."
"Baron Weissschnitzerdörfer?"
"Ask that of a man who is doing a tour of the globe, and who would
never get through a signature of a name of that length!"
"Then I can only think of Pan-Chao, unless we try Popof—"
"Either would do it with pleasure. But there is no hurry, Mr.
Ephrinell, and when you get to Pekin you will have no difficulty in
finding a fourth witness."
"What! to Pekin? It is not at Pekin that I hope to marry Miss Bluett!"
"Where, then? At Sou Tcheou or Lan Tcheou, while we stop a few hours?"
"Wait a bit, Monsieur Bombarnac! Can a Yankee wait?"
"Then it is to be—"
"Here."
"In the train?"
"In the train."
"Then it is for me to say, Wait a bit!"
"Not twenty-four hours."
"But to be married you require—"
"An American minister, and we have the Reverend Nathaniel Morse."
"He consents?"
"As if he would not! He would marry the whole train if it asked him!"
"Bravo, Mr. Ephrinell! A wedding in a train will be delightful."
"We should never put off until to-morrow what we can do to-day."
"Yes, I know, time is money."
"No! Time is time, simply, and I do not care to lose a minute of it."
Ephrinell clasped my hand, and as I had promised, I went to take the
necessary steps regarding the witnesses necessary for the nuptial
ceremonial.
It needs not be said that the commercials were of full age and free to
dispose of themselves, to enter into marriage before a clergyman, as is
done in America, and without any of the fastidious preliminaries
required in France and other formalistic countries. Is this an
advantage or otherwise? The Americans think it is for the best, and, as
Cooper says, the best at home is the best everywhere.
I first asked Major Noltitz, who willingly agreed to be Miss Bluett's
witness.
"These Yankees are astonishing," he said to me.
"Precisely because they are astonished at nothing, major."
I made a similar proposition to Pan-Chao.
"Delighted, Monsieur Bombarnac," he replied. "I will be the witness of
this adorable and adored Miss Bluett! If a wedding between an
Englishwoman and an American, with French, Russian and Chinese
witnesses, does not offer every guarantee of happiness, where are we
likely to meet with it?"
And now for Caterna.
The actor would have consented for any number of weddings.
"What a notion for a vaudeville or an operetta!" he exclaimed. "We have
the
Mariage au tambour
, the
Mariage aux olives
, the
Mariage aux
lanternes
—well, this will be the
Mariage en railway
, or the
Marriage by Steam! Good titles, all those, Monsieur Claudius! Your
Yankee can reckon on me! Witness old or young, noble father or first
lover, marquis or peasant, as you like, I am equal to it—"
"Be natural, please," said I. "It will have a good effect, considering
the scenery."
"Is Madame Caterna to come to the wedding?"
"Why not—as bridesmaid!"
In all that concerns the traditional functions we must have no
difficulties on the Grand Transasiatic.
It is too late for the ceremony to take place to-day. Ephrinell
understood that certain conventionalities must be complied with. The
celebration could take place in the morning. The passengers could all
be invited, and Faruskiar might be prevailed on to honor the affair
with his presence.
During dinner we talked of nothing else. After congratulating the happy
couple, who replied with true Anglo-Saxon grace, we all promised to
sign the marriage contract.
"And we will do honor to your signatures," said Ephrinell, in the tone
of a tradesman accepting a bill.
The night came, and we retired, to dream of the marriage festivities of
the morrow. I took my usual stroll into the car occupied by the Chinese
soldiers, and found the treasure of the Son of Heaven faithfully
guarded. Half the detachment were awake and half were asleep.
About one o'clock in the morning I visited Kinko, and handed him over
my purchases at Nia. The young Roumanian was in high spirits. He
anticipated no further obstacles, he would reach port safely, after all.
"I am getting quite fat in this box," he told me.
I told him about the Ephrinell-Bluett marriage, and how the union was
to be celebrated next morning with great pomp.
"Ah!" said he, with a sigh. "They are not obliged to wait until they
reach Pekin!"
"Quite so, Kinko; but it seems to me that a marriage under such
conditions is not likely to be lasting! But after all, that is the
couple's lookout."
At three o'clock in the morning we stopped forty minutes at Tchertchen,
almost at the foot of the ramifications of the Kuen Lun. None of us had
seen this miserable, desolate country, treeless and verdureless, which
the railway was now crossing on its road to the northeast.
Day came; our train ran the four hundred kilometres between Tchertchen
and Tcharkalyk, while the sun caressed with its rays the immense plain,
glittering in its saline efflorescences.
When I awoke I seemed to have had an unpleasant dream. A dream in no
way like those we interpret by the
Clef d'Or
. No! Nothing could be
clearer. The bandit chief Ki Tsang had prepared a scheme for the
seizure of the Chinese treasure; he had attacked the train in the
plains of Gobi; the car is assaulted, pillaged, ransacked; the gold and
precious stones, to the value of fifteen millions, are torn from the
grasp of the Celestials, who yield after a courageous defence. As to
the passengers, another two minutes of sleep would have settled their
fate—and mine.