Falkenberg turned his head only once. The stone walls now on either side seemed flying past them. Estermen looked into his face and quaked with fear.
"This ride is for you and me alone, my friend!" Falkenberg replied. "Sit tight and say your prayers, if it pleases you. This is better, after all, than poison, or the cold muzzle of a revolver at your forehead. Close your eyes if you are afraid; or open them, if you have the courage, and see the world spin by. We start on the great journey."
Estermen shrieked. He half rose to his feet, but Falkenberg, holding the wheel with his right hand, struck him across the face with his left so that he fell back in his place.
"If you try to leave the car," he said, "I swear that I will stop and come back. I will shoot you where you lie, like a dog. Be brave, man! Be thankful that you are going to your death in honorable company and in honorable fashion! It's better, this, than the guillotine, isn't it? Look at the country below, like patchwork, coming up to us. Listen to the wind rushing by. You see the trees, how they bend? You feel the rain stinging your cheeks? Sit still, man, and fix your thoughts where you will. Think of mademoiselle la danseuse, think of her kisses, think of the perfume of the violets at her bosom! You see, we arrive. Watch that corner of the viaduct."
They were traveling now at a terrific speed, falling fast to the level country. Before them was a high bridge, crossing the river. On the left, a portion of it was being repaired and a few boards alone were up for protection. Falkenberg, recognizing the spot for which he had been looking, settled down in his seat. A grim smile parted his lips.
"Jean Charles will never place his hand upon your shoulder now!" he cried. "Can you hear the wind sob, Estermen? Soon you'll hear the water in your ears! Hold fast. Don't spoil the end!"
They were going at sixty miles an hour, and with the slightest swerve of the steering wheel they turned to the left on entering the bridge and struck the boards. Henri, in his account of the accident, declared that although the car turned over before it reached the river, Falkenberg never left his seat. Estermen, on the other hand, was thrown violently out, and struck the water head foremost. From the condition of his body it would seem that death was instantaneous. Falkenberg was found with his arms locked around the steering wheel, his head bent forward. He, too, seemed to have been drowned almost immediately. The steering wheel was jammed, the car wrecked….
The authorities, who had left only a temporary protection while they repaired the viaduct on the bridge, were severely censured. The makers of the car were subjected to a very searching cross-examination. The brakes and the uncertain light were blamed. Henri, who from the hillside a mile or more back had watched with ghastly face, was the only one who understood the accident, and he kept silent!