"I'm going to sleep," said Nessa as the brute was leaving the carriage; and she put her legs up on the seat with excellently acted unconcern.
"Good idea, so will I," and I threw myself full length on the seat.
"Silence," roared the brute. "If they speak, club them both," and with this amiable command to our guards he left us.
The men would in all probability have obeyed him to the letter, so we prudently gave them no occasion.
Except for the desire to try and reassure Nessa, there was nothing to be said. The disastrous telegram had ruined everything. What did it mean? It didn't seem possible that von Gratzen could have sent such a message. It was too blunt, too crude, and altogether too brutal a thing to fit with all I had seen of him. He was wily enough in all truth, but such a method was so lacking in finesse, so devoid of cunning, that I could not believe it had really come from him.
It was possible that he had been infuriated at discovering I had stolen the passports; but even then he would have resorted to some far more adroit means of arresting me. There was another consideration, too. It was not in accord with his plans to denounce me as the murderer in this fashion. His object was not to have me accused, but to catch von Erstein in the web so subtly woven.
At the same time it must have been sent by some one having high authority, because the train had been stopped in order that it might be delivered to the guard. The police could have done it. The detective at the station had probably reported my flight, and, if von Erstein had already accused me to them, they might resort to such a means to have me arrested. But in that case the message would not have been sent in von Gratzen's name. That killed that theory therefore.
There was only one alternative suggestion—that the telegram was a forgery and that von Erstein had ventured to use von Gratzen's name, relying upon his influence to get him out of trouble for it. He had guessed I was going to bolt, and he would have little difficulty in finding out where I had gone; I might even have been followed to the station without knowing it; and it was just such a step as would appeal to his cunning vindictive nature.
The truth would soon be out, as a few minutes would see us at Osnabrück at the pace we were rushing through the night; and until we reached there, nothing could be done. Despite the mysterious telegram I still had faith in von Gratzen's concluding assurance—"Whatever happens I'll stand by you, my boy."
All the same it was a deplorable business, especially for Nessa; and that worried me desperately. We were both sure to be locked up; and Germany is one of those insalubrious countries where it's very difficult to get out of gaol when once the doors have closed on you. Even if the thing were explained at Osnabrück, it would be impossible for her to continue her journey that night; and when she would be able to do so, Heaven alone knew.