Frankly, I was undecided. What was to be done? To get down would have been perilous. Inside the Klotz-car we were at least out of his reach, and I did not desire to be butted at by him, so I endeavored to get him forward.
As before, no bit of him would obey my orders.
We were in this awkward position, when suddenly I felt the steering-wheel turn round, (levers and foot-breaks working away); and the car, making a wide sweep, faced about, and began to take us back again towards Fonval.
I was luckily able to turn it round again by a sudden movement, but the moment it was set in the right direction, it definitely manifested the wish not to move a wheel forward.
At last Emma perceived that there was something unusual the matter, and she urged me to get down to put this right, but for some moments my terror had been changed into rage.
The hooter laughed!
“He who laughs last, laughs loudest,” I cried to myself.
“What is the matter? What is the matter?” said my companion.
Without listening to her, I took from the grid a steel rod, which served me as a defensive weapon, and to the profound stupefaction of Emma, I hit the restive car with it. Then there was an epic scene!
Under the formidable hail of blows, the heavy vehicle behaved like a restive horse—plunged, kicked and bucked. It tried everything to fling us out of the saddle.