“From the train?”
I nodded, peering through the window into the darkness, and suddenly recognising a station through which we passed a moment later. “We are about eighteen versts from Borki, and close to the spot that had been arranged. If you remain here, you know what fate awaits you,” I added, noticing his hesitation.
The door was open, and the two men in the kitchen beyond were smoking cigarettes and drinking vodka.
“Come,” I said aloud, so that they should overhear. “We are nearing Borki, I think. Let’s go outside and see. I once lived close by when I was a youth.”
He followed me. As we stepped out upon the platform at the end of the car and adjoining the engine, I undid the latch of the little iron gate.
Our pace had quickened, and we were travelling through the wide open country in the teeth of a fierce storm of rain and wind.
“Follow me,” I said briefly, and without glancing round, sprang out upon the line.
I have a dim recollection of sustaining a severe blow on the top of the skull. Then all was oblivion.
On regaining consciousness, I found myself lying upon a grassy bank near the line, with Liustig bending over me. Day was just dawning.
“Come, pull yourself together, Prèhznev,” he urged; “we must fly, or we shall be discovered.”