Anxious to be out of the rush of wind and greasy smoke, I gave this platform only the most cursory look before swinging myself down onto it, and missed seeing the dark form of a man who stood motionless in a corner and gazed out at the scattered lights of farms and hamlets that flew by us in the night. In the surrounding roar of air and iron I could not hear his lungs or heart, and the glowing signal of his cigar became visible only when he turned to face me. I realized that I had been an instant too late in taking my own stance at the rail, as an interested observer of the countryside; yet I looked back at him as insouciantly as possible, daring him, as it were, to believe the evidence of his own eyes concerning my arrival.
He was a man about thirty-five years of age, of middle height, with a small, well-trimmed beard and brown, liquid, intelligent, and somehow powerful eyes. He removed the large, black cigar from his mouth and stared at me with the frank astonishment of one who could indeed believe his eyes' report that I had come down from the roof.
Casually I snapped my collapsible hat back into shape and replaced it on my head. Then I nodded affably to my companion and prepared to engage him in conversation; it was necessary to learn whether my own survival was going to require throwing this unfortunate person from the train, or whether he could be brought around to the belief that he had not really seen what he had seen at all.
"Bon soir, monsieur," I offered, and switched to German when his rather hesitant reply came in an accent that betrayed his greater familiarity with that tongue.
"Good evening," he answered, and had to stare a moment longer before blinking and offering an apology. "Pray forgive my staring. But-but I was lost in thought here, and it seemed to me that-that you arrived here on the platform… as if from nowhere." Hesitant though his words were at first, they soon acquired a tone of firm dominance that was evidently more natural for him.
"Quite understandable," I murmured. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Emile Corday, of the Akademie der Wissenschaften, in Vienna."
He was nonplussed again; once more I had blundered. From behind my glasses I scanned the passing scenery, looking out for a haystack into which I could toss him, thus getting an inconvenient observer out of the way for an essential day or two, if not forever. It was beginning to look as it his departure from the train would be required, but I was loath to take his life.
"The Akademie…?" he muttered. "But I myself… that is, I thought I was fairly well acquainted with all…"
"Ach, of course I have not been active there for some years. I am at present in the employ of a London firm… no, thank you, no cigar, Herr-?"
He reached to grasp my hand by way of self-introduction, and opened his mouth to announce his name, but at that moment we plunged into a short tunnel and his words were lost on me.
After such intensive dousing in engine smoke as the tunnel had afforded us we moved by common consent to re-enter the interior of the train. It was of course the smoking car we entered; I froze momentarily, anticipating immediate and desperate action, when I recognized two of the-exclusively male, of course-inhabitants as Arthur and Quincey, who seemed to have just seated themselves and lit cigars.
I contrived to sit with my back to them as my new companion and I took seats not far away; he had his own cigar new-lighted and was likely to wish to remain in this car for some minutes. Nor did I wish to leave him until I was sure how much he had seen, or thought he had seen, of my inhuman acrobatics.
The voices of Quincey and Arthur were pitched too low for ordinary ears in my position to have picked them up, but I had little difficulty.
"In Texas we call a who-er a who-er," Quincey was whispering with some vehemence. "You sure that li'l red-haired piece is one, whyn't we up and put the question to her? Ask her if she's got a girl friend aboard, too. Things'd be more comfortable that way."
"It isn't always done that directly and bluntly, old fellow, as you never seem to learn. This is not Africa, after all, nor the South Seas."
"That's what you said in London, too. And matters there worked out pretty well, the way I handled it. Right?"
"The woman there was absolutely terrified, dear chap, after you claimed to see a bat, and fired your Colt out the window for target practice…"
"My practice is at present rather limited," my new friend was saying, closer to my ears. He seemed in a way attracted to me, as one unusual person is sometimes drawn to another even when neither knows the exact quality of the other's strangeness. "I have devoted so much energy lately to these researches on the effects of cocaine, and on the energies of the mental process as they may affect the physical health."
This last caught my attention with a jolt. "Most interesting, Doctor," I said with feeling. I had surmised his title by now if I was still ignorant of his name.
My companion had fallen silent, pondering something, letting his cigar go gray.
"Shouldn'ta had that las' brandy if this's to be my night to howl, but t' hell with it. Now I'm gonna mount that red-haired catamount or know th' reason why… Art, you are sure she's a who-er?"
"Quite, quite. One can learn from listening to the servants, you know, even as they learn from us. One must conduct negotiations through them, I'll wager, for the favors of this auburn-haired charmer and any companion she may have aboard…"
"And did you say you had a practice now in London, Dr. Corday?"
"Ah, not precisely, Doctor, no. Rather I am a consultant there on various physiological and medical matters… for several firms…"
My processes of invention, never very strong, were flagging rapidly. I did, however, by speaking slowly and with thoughtful pauses, manage to stall my interlocutor until Quincey and Arthur had got up again and left the car, evidently to begin negotiations. I thought Arthur trailed rather reluctantly behind his friend; Lucy had been in her grave for only three weeks, and dead for only two. Perhaps I was naive, but it came as something of a surprise to me to learn that ladies of the evening regularly rode the wagons-lits in luxury across the Continent. But why not? Money and boredom both abounded on the Orient Express, and I believe there is something intrinsically exciting in the quick motion of a train.
When my new friend and I did leave the smoking car I arranged matters so that he preceded me through the train, opening doors as we came to them; thus I was given an invitation into each sleeping car that I had not yet visited. At this early hour of the night the ladies' car was of course still passable by gentlemen. Inside it, only glass panels and a frame of wood separated the compartments from the more or less public aisle; but damask curtains covered most of the glass, and I still did not know in which compartment Mina was going to lodge.
"Ah, it is an extravagance, this train," my unwitting benefactor murmured after we had passed on into a gentleman's car and were pausing before the door of a cabin that was evidently his own. "For myself, that is. But I wanted to be alone, and in peace for a time, to think… there is so little time for thought."
"I have noticed that in my own affairs," I rejoined sympathetically. "Well, I trust I have not unduly distracted you from your thoughts, Doctor. Your research sounds immensely interesting and I look forward to hearing more of it in the near future."
"You are going to Vienna?" he asked.
"A much greater distance. Business will eventually take me as far as the Black Sea."
"Well, we shall certainly have time to talk tomorrow… at breakfast, perhaps?"
"Why not?" I would always be able to plead some minor indisposition while at table; and if it became necessary I could even swallow some bland food, to be regurgitated later.
"As for interrupting my research, distracting me, Dr. Corday, do not give it another thought. No, you have given me…" He broke off with a little laugh. "Food for thought," seemed to be the unstated conclusion of his sentence. "Do you know, when first I saw you on the platform there tonight, I fancied you had…" But at that point he had to break off again, with a little smile followed at once by a very serious look of introspection. What he thought he had seen out there was too ridiculous for casual, social discussion.