Abbleway was alone, or almost alone, with a derelict railway waggon, in the heart of some Styrian or Croatian forest. In the third-class compartment next to his own he remembered to have seen a peasant woman, who had entered the train at a small wayside station. "With the exception of that woman," he exclaimed dramatically to himself, "the nearest living beings are probably a pack of wolves."Before making his way to the third-class compartment to acquaint his fellow-traveller with the extent of the disaster Abbleway hurriedly pondered the question of the woman's nationality. He had acquired a smattering of Slavonic tongues during his residence in Vienna, and felt competent to grapple with several racial possibilities.
"If she is Croat or Serb or Bosniak I shall be able to make her understand," he promised himself. "If she is Magyar, heaven help me! We shall have to converse entirely by signs."He entered the carriage and made his momentous announcement in the best approach to Croat speech that he could achieve.
"The train has broken away and left us!"
The woman shook her head with a movement that might be intended to convey resignation to the will of heaven, but probably meant noncomprehension. Abbleway repeated his information with variations of Slavonic tongues and generous displays of pantomime.
"Ah," said the woman at last in German dialect, "the train has gone? We are left. Ah, so."She seemed about as much interested as though Abbleway had told her the result of the municipal elections in Amsterdam.
"They will find out at some station, and when the line is clear of snow they will send an engine. It happens that way sometimes.""We may be here all night!" exclaimed Abbleway.
The woman nodded as though she thought it possible.
"Are there wolves in these parts?" asked Abbleway hurriedly.
"Many," said the woman; "just outside this forest my aunt was devoured three years ago, as she was coming home from market. The horse and a young pig that was in the cart were eaten too. The horse was a very old one, but it was a beautiful young pig, oh, so fat. I cried when Iheard that it was taken. They spare nothing.""They may attack us here," said Abbleway tremulously; "they could easily break in, these carriages are like matchwood. We may both be devoured.""You, perhaps," said the woman calmly; "not me.""Why not you?" demanded Abbleway.
"It is the day of Saint Maria Kleopha, my name-day.
She would not allow me to be eaten by wolves on her day.
Such a thing could not be thought of. You, yes, but not me."Abbleway changed the subject.
"It is only afternoon now; if we are to be left here till morning we shall be starving.""I have here some good eatables," said the woman tranquilly; "on my festival day it is natural that Ishould have provision with me. I have five good blood-sausages; in the town shops they cost twenty-five heller each. Things are dear in the town shops.""I will give you fifty heller apiece for a couple of them," said Abbleway with some enthusiasm.
"In a railway accident things become very dear,"said the woman; "these blood-sausages are four kronen apiece.""Four kronen!" exclaimed Abbleway; "four kronen for a blood-sausage!""You cannot get them any cheaper on this train,"said the woman, with relentless logic, "because there aren't any others to get. In Agram you can buy them cheaper, and in Paradise no doubt they will be given to us for nothing, but here they cost four kronen each. Ihave a small piece of Emmenthaler cheese and a honey-cake and a piece of bread that I can let you have. That will be another three kronen, eleven kronen in all. There is a piece of ham, but that I cannot let you have on my name-day."Abbleway wondered to himself what price she would have put on the ham, and hurried to pay her the eleven kronen before her emergency tariff expanded into a famine tariff. As he was taking possession of his modest store of eatables he suddenly heard a noise which set his heart thumping in a miserable fever of fear. 'There was a scraping and shuffling as of some animal or animals trying to climb up to the footboard. In another moment, through the snow-encrusted glass of the carriage window, he saw a gaunt prick-eared head, with gaping jaw and lolling tongue and gleaming teeth; a second later another head shot up.
"There are hundreds of them," whispered Abbleway;"they have scented us. They will tear the carriage to pieces. We shall be devoured.""Not me, on my name-day. The holy Maria Kleopha would not permit it," said the woman with provoking calm.
The heads dropped down from the window and an uncanny silence fell on the beleaguered carriage.
Abbleway neither moved nor spoke. Perhaps the brutes had not clearly seen or winded the human occupants of the carriage, and had prowled away on some other errand of rapine.
The long torture-laden minutes passed slowly away.
"It grows cold," said the woman suddenly, crossing over to the far end of the carriage, where the heads had appeared. "The heating apparatus does not work any longer. See, over there beyond the trees, there is a chimney with smoke coming from it. It is not far, and the snow has nearly stopped, I shall find a path through the forest to that house with the chimney.""But the wolves!" exclaimed Abbleway; "they may - ""Not on my name-day," said the woman obstinately, and before he could stop her she had opened the door and climbed down into the snow. A moment later he hid his face in his hands; two gaunt lean figures rushed upon her from the forest. No doubt she had courted her fate, but Abbleway had no wish to see a human being torn to pieces and devoured before his eyes.
When he looked at last a new sensation of scandalised astonishment took possession of him. He had been straitly brought up in a small English town, and he was not prepared to be the witness of a miracle. The wolves were not doing anything worse to the woman than drench her with snow as they gambolled round her.
A short, joyous bark revealed the clue to the situation.
"Are those - dogs?" he called weakly.
"My cousin Karl's dogs, yes," she answered; that is his inn, over beyond the trees. I knew it was there, but I did not want to take you there; he is always grasping with strangers. However, it grows too cold to remain in the train. Ah, ah, see what comes!"A whistle sounded, and a relief engine made its appearance, snorting its way sulkily through the snow.
Abbleway did not have the opportunity for finding out whether Karl was really avaricious.
