“There is another—let me see—in one hour—two—will ’mal nachsehen. Will you come with me, Fräulein, and we will see about the trains.”
“If you would show me the platform,” said I. “Perhaps some of them may still be there. Oh, what will they think of me?”
“We must go to the wartesaal,” said he. “Then you can look out and see if you see any of them.”
I had no choice but to comply.
My benefactor picked up my two bundles, and, in spite of my expostulations, carried them with him. He took me through the door inscribed Ausgang, and the whole thing seemed so extremely simple now, that my astonishment as to how I could have lost myself increased every minute. He went before me to the waiting-room, put my bundles upon one of the sofas, and we went to the door. The platform was almost as empty as the one we had left.
I looked round, and though it was only what I had expected, yet my face fell when I saw how utterly and entirely my party had disappeared.
“You see them not?” he inquired.
“No—they are gone,” said I, turning away from the window and choking down a sob, not very effectually. Turning my damp and sorrowful eyes to my companion, I found that he was still smiling to himself as if quietly amused at the whole adventure.
“I will go and see at what time the trains go to Elberthal. Suppose you sit down—yes?”
Passively obeying, I sat down and turned my situation over in my mind, in which kind of agreeable mental legerdemain I was still occupied when he returned.