Just then he turned his head in my direction, and saw my white face.
I saw him start as I clung there just a little way below him to his right, and within easy reach, and, for I should think a minute, we stared hard at each other.
Then he spoke in a quiet matter-of-fact way.
“Don’t be scared, my lad,” he said; “it’s alright. I can take hold of you tightly. Hold fast till I get you by the arms. That’s it; now loose your right hand and take hold of the door; here pass it in. That’s the way; edge along. I’ve got you tight. Come along; now the other hand in. That’s the way.”
I obeyed him, for he seemed to force me to by his firm way, but the thought came over me, “Suppose he is that man’s companion.” But even if he had been, I was too much unnerved to do anything but what he bade me, so I passed one hand on to the window-frame of the door, then edged along and stood holding on with the other hand, for he had me as if his grasp was a vice, and then his hands glided down to my waist. He gripped me by my clothes and flesh, and before I could realise it he had dragged me right in through the window and placed me on the seat.
Then dragging up the window he sank back opposite to me and cried to a gentleman standing in the compartment:
“Give me a drop of brandy, Jem, or I shall faint!”
I crouched back there, quivering and unable to speak. I was so unnerved; but I saw the other gentleman hand a flask to the bluff-looking man who had saved me, and I saw him take a hearty draught and draw long breath, after which he turned to me.
“You young scoundrel!” he cried; “how dare you give me such a fright!”
I tried to speak, but the words would not come. I was choking, and I believe for a minute I literally sobbed.