“I am, madam.”
“And you stand by and see your countrywomen treated in this perfectly outrageous fashion?”
“My dear madam,” protested Stewart, “what could one man—even an American—do against a thousand?”
“You could at least——”
“Nonsense, mother,” broke in another voice, and Stewart turned to see that it was a slim, pale girl of perhaps twenty-two who spoke. “The gentleman is quite right. Besides, I thought it rather good fun.”
“Good fun!” snapped her mother. “Good fun to be jerked about and trampled on and insulted! And where is our baggage? Will we ever see it again?”
“Oh, the baggage is safe enough,” Stewart assured her. “The troops will detrain somewhere this side the frontier, and we can all take our old seats.”
“But why should they travel by this train? Why should they not take another train? Why should they——”
“Are we all here?” broke in an anxious voice. “Is anyone missing?”
There was a moment’s counting, then a general sigh of relief. The number was found correct.