They were, but fear, like love, has wings, and before the train reached the station the girl had been disguised afresh. Shorn of her beard, and clothed in Caruth’s stylish overcoat, with his cap drawn down over her ears, she made a very presentable boy.
Caruth looked her over critically. “You’ll do,” he decided.
“Oh, I hope so! But aren’t you going to——” She glanced at her discarded hat and coat.
“Neverlee.” The joy of the game was mounting to Caruth’s head like wine. “Neverlee! That would be ruin sure enough. I’ve got a scheme worth two of that. You’ve got a pistol, haven’t you? Let’s see it.”
“Yes.” The girl drew it out wonderingly.
“Good!” He sat down and leaned forward. “Now,” he said, “hit me with the butt of your revolver. Here.” He laid his finger on his forehead just at the bottom of the hair. “Hit hard,” he concluded, “and when the train gets into the station put out for the American Embassy and stay there till I come. Hit! Hit hard!”
The girl shrank back. “I can’t,” she breathed.
“You must. You’ve got to have time to escape from the railway station, and this is the only thing that would explain my delay and lend artistic verisimilitude to a bald and unconvincing narrative, as our friend, the Mikado, once said. Don’t be afraid; my skull is thick, and won’t be seriously hurt. Quick! We are getting into the station. Think that I am General Somebodyoffski and hit—hit hard. Quick!”
The girl’s eyes grew big with tears. “I did not think there lived such a man as you,” she breathed. “Now I understand why your great country is free. Such men as you must be free. Oh, God! Is there no other way?”
“None. The train is stopping. Quick!” Despairingly, the girl glanced around. Then she lifted the heavy revolver and struck as Caruth had directed. Without a moan he sank back, unconscious, in his seat.