The Monomaniac (La bête humaine)

by Émile Zola

Pecqueux immediately opened the door again, and obstinately threw on more coal, as if he wanted to blow up the engine. This was rebellion, orders disregarded, exasperated passion that took no further heed of all these human lives. And Jacques, having leant over to lower the rod of the ash-pan himself, so as to at least lessen the draught, the fireman abruptly caught him round the body, and tried to push him, to throw him on the line with a violent jerk.

"You blackguard!" exclaimed Jacques. "So that is your game, is it? And then you would say that I tumbled over! You artful brute!"

He clung to the side of the tender, and both slid down. The struggle continued on the little iron-bridge, which danced violently. They ceased speaking, and with set teeth each did his utmost to precipitate the other through the narrow opening at the side which was only closed by an iron bar. But this did not prove easy. The devouring engine rolled on, and still rolled on. Barentin was passed, the train plunged into the tunnel of Malaunay, and they continued to hold each other tightly, grovelling in the coal, striking their heads against the side of the water-tank, but avoiding the red-hot door of the fire-box, which scorched their legs each time they extended them.

At one moment, Jacques reflected that if he could raise himself he would close the regulator, and call for assistance, so that he might be freed of this furious madman, raging with drink and jealousy. Smaller in build than Pecqueux, he was becoming weak, and now despaired of finding sufficient strength to fling his aggressor from the locomotive. Indeed, he was already vanquished, and felt the terror of the fall pass through his hair. As in a supreme effort, he groped about with his hand, the other understood, and, stiffening his loins, raised him like a child.

"Ah! You want to stop! Ah! you took my girl! Hah! hah! You will have to go over the side!"

The engine rolled onward, onward. The train issued from the tunnel with a great crash, and continued its course through the barren, sombre country. Malaunay station was passed in such a tempestuous blast that the assistant station-master, standing on the platform, did not even see the two men endeavouring to slaughter one another as the thunderbolt bore them away.

At last, Pecqueux with a final spurt, precipitated Jacques from the engine; but the latter, feeling himself in space, clung so tightly in his bewilderment to the neck of his antagonist, that he dragged Pecqueux along with him. There were a couple of terrible shrieks, which mingled one with the other and were lost. The two men falling together, cast under the wheels by the counter shock, were cut to pieces clasping one another in that frightful embrace—they, who so long had lived as brothers. They were found without heads, and without feet, two bleeding trunks, still hugging as if to choke each other.

And the engine, free from all guidance rolled on and on. At last the restive, whimsical thing could give way to the transports of youth, and gallop across the even country like some unbroken filly escaped from the hands of its groom. The boiler was full of water, the coal which had just been renewed in the fire-box, was aglow; and during the first half-hour the pressure went up tremendously, while the speed became frightful. Probably the headguard, overcome with fatigue, had fallen asleep. The soldiers, whose intoxication increased through being packed so closely together, suddenly became amused at this rapid flight of the train, and sang the louder. Maromme was passed in a flash. The whistle no longer sounded as the signals were approached, and the stations reached. This was the straight gallop of an animal charging, head down and silent, amidst the obstacles. And it rolled on and on without end, as if maddened more and more by the strident sound of its breath.

At Rouen the engine should have taken in water; and the people at the station were struck with terror when they saw this mad train dart by in a whirl of smoke and flame; the locomotive without driver or fireman, the cattle-trucks full of soldiers yelling patriotic songs. They were going to the war, and if the train did not stop it was in order that they might arrive more rapidly yonder, on the banks of the Rhine. The railway servants stood gaping, agitating their arms. Immediately there was one general cry, this train let loose, abandoned to itself, would never pass without impediment through Sotteville station, which was always blocked by shunting manœuvres and obstructed by carriages and engines like all great depôts. And there was a rush to the telegraph-office to give warning.

At Sotteville a goods train, occupying the line, was shunted just in time. Already the rumble of the escaped monster could be heard in the distance. It had dashed into the two tunnels in the vicinity of Rouen, and was arriving at its furious gallop like a prodigious and irresistible force that naught could now stay; and Sotteville station was left behind. It passed among the obstacles without touching anything, and again plunged into the obscurity where its roar gradually died away.