I lay watching him for a few minutes, and then the sweet restful feeling mastered me again, and I went off fast asleep. One moment there was the compartment with its cushions and lamp with the rush and sway of the carriage that made me think it must be something like this on board ship; the next I was back at the works keeping watch and wondering whether either of the men would come and make any attempt upon the place.
I don’t know how long I had been asleep, but all at once, without moving, I was wide-awake with my eyes closed, fully realising that I had a valuable packet of some kind in my breast-pocket, and that my fellow-traveller was softly unbuttoning my overcoat so as to get it out.
I lay perfectly still for a moment or two, and then leaped up and bounded to the other side of the carriage.
“There, it is of no use,” said my fellow-traveller; “pull that letter out of your pocket and give it to me quietly or—”
He said no more, but took a pistol out of his breast, while I shrank up against the farther door, the window of which was open, and stared at him aghast.
“Do you hear?” he said fiercely. “Come; no nonsense! I want that letter. There, I don’t want to frighten you, boy. Come and sit down; I sha’n’t hurt you.”
The train was flying along at forty miles an hour at least, and this man knew that the packet I had was valuable. How he knew it I could not tell, but he must have found out at Arrowfield. He was going to take it from me, and if he got it what was he going to do?
I thought it all over as if in a flash.
He was going to steal the packet, and he would know that I should complain at the first station we reached; and he would prevent this, I felt sure. But how?
There was only one way. He had threatened me with a pistol, but I did not think he would use that. No; there was only one way, and it was this—he would rob me and throw me out of the train.