df.theedge-第24部分

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he　edge。'
　　'Mrs　Baudelaire；'　I　said；　'you　are　a　gem。'
　　'Beyond　the　price　of　rubies；'　she　agreed。　'Anything　else？'
　　'Nothing；　except。。。　I　hope　you　are　well。'
　　'No；　not　very。　You're　kind　to　ask。　Goodbye；　young　man。　I'm　always　here。'
　　She　put　the　receiver　down　quickly　as　if　to　stop　me　from　asking　anything　else　about　her　illness；　and　it　reminded　me　sharply　of　my　Aunt　Viv；　bright；　spirited　and　horse　mad　to　the　end。
　　I　went　back　to　the　dining　car　to　find　Oliver　and　Cathy　lying　the　tables　for　dinner；　and　I　helped　them　automatically；　although　they　said　I　needn't。　The　job　done；　we　repaired　to　the　kitchen　door　to　see　literally　what　was　cooking　and　to　take　the　printed　menus　from　Angus　to　put　on　the　tables。
　　Blinis　with　caviar；　we　read；　followed　by　rack　of　lamb　or　cold　poached　salmon；　then　chocolate　mousse　with　cream。
　　'There　won't　be　any　over；'　Cathy　sighed；　and　she　was　right　as　far　as　the　blinis　went；　though　we　all　ate　lamb　in　the　end。
　　With　ovens　and　gas　burners　roaring　away；　it　was　wiltingly　hot　even　at　the　dining…room　end　of　the　kitchen。　Down　where　the　chef　worked；　a　temperature　gauge　on　the　wall　stood　at　102°　Fahrenheit；　but　tall　willowy　Angus；　whose　high　hat　nearly　brushed　the　ceiling；　looked　cool　and　unperturbed。
　　'Don't　you　have　air…conditioning？'　I　asked。
　　Angus　said；　'In　summer；　I　dare　say。　October　is　however　officially　winter；　even　though　it's　been　warm　this　year。　The　air…conditioning　needs　freon　gas　which　has　all　leaked　away；　and　it　won't　be　topped　up　again　until　spring。　So　Simone　tells　me。'
　　Simone；　a　good　foot　shorter　and　with　sweat　trickling　down　her　temples；　mutely　nodded。
　　The　passengers　came　straggling　back　shedding　overcoats　and　saying　it　was　cold　outside；　and　again　the　dining　car　filled　up。　The　Lorrimores　this　time　were　all　sitting　together。　The　Youngs　were　with　the　Unwins　from　Australia　and　Filmer　and　Daffodil　shared　a　table　with　a　pair　Nell　later　identified　to　me　as　the　American　owners　of　the　horse　called　Flokati。
　　Filmer；　extremely　smooth　in　a　dark　suit　and　grey　tie；　solicitously　removed　Daffodil's　chinchillas　and　hung　them　over　the　back　of　her　chair。　She　shimmered　in　a　figure…hugging　black　dress；　diamonds　sparkling　whenever　she　moved；　easily　outstripping　the　rest　of　the　pany　（even　Mavis　Bricknell）　in　conspicuous　expenditure。
　　The　train　made　its　smooth　inconspicuous　departure　and　I　did　my　stuff　with　water　and　breadsticks。
　　Bambi　Lorrimore　put　her　hand　arrestingly　on　my　arm　as　I　passed。　She　was　wearing　a　mink　jacket　and　struggling　to　get　out　of　it。
　　'Take　this　back　into　our　private　car；　will　you？'　she　said。　'It's　too　hot　in　here。　Put　it　in　the　saloon；　not　the　bedroom。'
　　'Certainly；　madam；'　I　agreed；　helping　her　with　alacrity。　'I'd　be　glad　to。'
　　Mercer　produced　a　key　and　gave　it　to　me；　explaining　that　I　would　e　to　a　locked　door。
　　'Lock　it　again　when　you　e　back。'
　　'Yes；　sir。'
　　He　nodded　and；　carrying　the　coat　away　over　my　arm；　I　went　back　through　the　dome　car　and　with　a　great　deal　of　interest　into　the　private　quarters　of　the　Lorrimores。
　　There　were　lights　on　everywhere。　I　came　first　to　a　small　unoccupied　sleeping　space；　then　a　galley；　cold　and　lifeless。　Provision　for　private　food　and　private　crew；　but　no　food；　no　crew。　Beyond　that　was　the　locked　door；　and　beyond　that　a　small　handsome　dining　room　to　seat　eight。　Through　there；　down　a　corridor；　there　were　three　bedrooms；　two　with　the　doors　open。　I　took　a　quick　peek　inside：　bed；　drawers；　small　bathroom　with　shower。　One　was　clearly　Xanthe's；　the　other　by　inference　Sheridan's。　I　didn't　go　into　the　parents'　room　but　went　on　beyond　it　to　find　myself　in　the　rear　part　of　the　carriage；　at　the　very　end　of　the　train。It　was　a　fortable　drawing　room　with　a　television　set　and　abundant　upholstered　armchairs　in　pastel　blues　and　greens。　I　went　over　to　the　rear　door　and　looked　out；　seeing　a　little　open　boarding　platform　with　a　polished　brass…topped　balustrade　and；　beyond；　the　Canadian　Pacific's　single　pair　of　rails　streaming　away　into　darkness。　The　railroad　across
　　Canada；　I'd　learned；　was　single　track　for　most　of　the　way。　Only　in　towns　and　at　a　few　other　places　could　trains　going　in　opposite　directions　pass。
　　I　put　the　mink　coat　on　a　chair　and　retraced　my　journey；　locking　the　door　again　and　eventually　returning　the　key　to　Mercer　who　nodded　without　speech　and　put　it　in　his　pocket。
　　Emil　was　pouring　wine。　The　passengers　were　scoffing　the　blinis。　I　eased　into　the　general　picture　again　and　became　as　unidentifiable　as　possible。　Few　people；　I　discovered；　looked　directly　at　a　waiter's　eyes；　even　when　they　were　talking　to　him。
　　About　an　hour　after　we'd　left　Sudbury　we　stopped　briefly　for　under　five　minutes　at　a　place　called　Cartier　and　then　went　on　again。　The　passengers；　replete　with　the　lamb　and　chocolate　mousse；　lingered　over　coffee；　and　began　to　drift　away　to　the　dome　car's　bar　lounge。　Xanthe　Lorrimore　got　up　from　the　table　after　a　while　and　went　that　way；　and　presently　came　back　screaming。
　　This　time；　the　real　thing。　She　came　stumbling　back　into　the　dining　car　followed　by　a　motion　of　people　yelling　behind　her。
　　She　reached　her　parents　who　were　bewildered　as　well　as　worried。
　　'I　was　nearly　killed；'　she　said　frantically。　'I　nearly　stepped　off　into　space。　I　mean；　I　was　nearly　killed。'
　　'Darling；'　Mercer　said　calmingly；　'what　has　exactly　happened？'
　　'You　don't　understand。'　She　was　screaming；　trembling；　hysterical。　'I　nearly　stepped　into　space　because　our　private　car　isn't　there。'
　　It　brought　both　of　the　Lorrimores　to　their　feet　in　an　incredulous　rush；　but　they　had　only　to　look　at　the　faces　crowding　behind　her　to　know　it　was　true。
　　'And　they　say；　all　those　people　say。'　she　was　gasping；　half　unable　to　get　the　words　out；　terribly　frightened　'。　they　say　the　other　train；　the　regular　Canadian；　is　only　half　an　hour　behind　us；　and　will　smash　into。。　will　smash　into　。。。　don't　you　see？'
　　The　Lorrimores；　followed　by　everyone　still　in　the　dining　room；　went　dashing　off　into　the　dome　car；　but　Emil　and　I　looked　at　each　other；　and　I　said；　'How　do　we　warn　that　train？'
　　'Tell　the　Conductor。　He　has　a　radio。'
　　'I'll　go；'　I　said。　'I　know　where　his　office　is。　I'll　find　him。'
　　'Hurry　then。'
　　'Yes。'
　　I　hurried。　Ran。　Reached　George's　office。
　　No　one　there。
　　I　went　on；　running　where　I　could；　and　found　him　walking　back　towards　me　through　the　dayniter。　He　instantly　took　in　that　I　brought　bad　news　and　steered　me　at　once　into　the　noisy　outside　coupling　space　between　the　dayniter　and　the　central　dining　car。
　　'What　is　it？'　he　shouted。
　　'The　Lorrimores'　private　car　is　unhitched。。。　it's　somewhere　back　on　the　track；　and　the　Canadian　is　ing。'
　　He　moved　faster　than　I　would　have　thought　anyone　could　on　a　train　and　was　already　talking　into　a　radio　headset　when　I　reached　his　office。
　　'The　private　car　was　there　at　Carrier；'　he　said。　'I　was　off　the　train　there　and　saw　it。　Are　you　sure　it's　not　in　sight？'　He　listened。　'Right；　then　radio　to　the　Canadian　and　warn　the　Conductor　he'll　not　be　leaving　Cartier；　eh？　I'll　get　this　train　stopped　and　we'll　go　back　for　the　lost　car。　See　what's　what。　You'd　better　inform　Toronto　and　Montreal。　They　won't　think　this　is　very　funny　on　a　Sunday　evening；　eh？'　He　chuckled　and　looked　at　me　assessingly　as　I　stood　in　his　doorway。　'I'll　leave　someone　here　manning　the　radio；'　he　continued。　'Tell　him　when　you've　got　the　Canadian　understanding　the　situation；　eh？'
　　He　nodded　at　the　reply　he　heard；　took　off　the　headset　and　gave　it　to　me。
　　'You　are　talking　to　the　despatcher　in　Schreiber；'　he　said；　'that's　ahead　of　us；　this　side　of　Thunder　Bay…and　he　can　radio　straight　to　the　Canadian　following　us。　You　can　hear　the　despatcher　without　doing　anything。　To　transmit；　press　the　button。'　He　pointed；　and　was　gone。
　　I　put　on　the　headset　and　sat　in　his　chair　and　presently　into　my　ears　a　disembodied　voice　said；　'Are　you　there？'
　　I　pressed　the　button；　'Yes。'
　　'Tell　George　I　got　the　Canadian　and　it　will　stop　in　Cartier。　There's　a　CP　freight　train　due　behind　it　but　I　got　Sudbury　in　time　and　it　isn't　leaving　there。　No　one　is　happy。　Tell　George　to　pick　up　that　car　and　get　the　hell　out。'
　　I　pressed　the　button。　'Right；'　I　said。
　　'Who　are　you？'　asked　the　voice。
　　'One　of　the　attendants。'
　　She　said；　'Huh；'　and　was　quiet。
　　The　Great　Transcontinental　Mystery　Race　Train　began　to　slow　down　and　soon　came　to　a　smooth　stop。　Almost　in　the　same　instant；　George　was　back　in　his　doorway。
　　'Tell　the　despatcher　we've　stopped　and　are　going　back；'　he　said；　when　I'd　relayed　the　messages。　'We're　eleven　point　two　miles　out　of　Cartier；　between　Benny　and　Stralak；　which　means　in　an　uninhabited　wilderness。　You　stay　here；　eh？'　And　he　was　gone　again；　this　time　towards　the　excitement　in　the　tail。
　　I　gave　his　message　to　the　despatcher　and　added；　'We're　reversing　now；　going　slowly。'
　　'Let　me　know　when　you　find　the　car。'
　　'Yes。'
　　It　was　pitch　dark　through　the　windows；　no　light　in　the　wilderness。　I　heard　afterwards　from　a　lot　of　excited　chattering　in　the　dining　room　that　George　had　stood　alone　outside　the　rear　door　of　the　dome　car　on　the　brink　of　space；　directing　a　bright　hand…held　torch　beam　down　the　track。　Heard　that　he　had　a　walkie…talkie