sponsible might of the Russian Czardom.

It was not till we were fairly on our way, and the speed had risen to
something like fifty miles an hour, that I realized what I had done
in entering on this furious race.

I had never traveled on a detached engine before, and the sensation
at first was quite unnerving.

Unlike a motor car, in which the hand of the driver has to be
perpetually on the steering-gear, and his eye perpetually on the
alert, the pilot engine seemed to be flung forward like a missile,
guided by its own velocity, and clinging to the endless rails with
its wheels as with iron claws. With the rush as of wind, with the
roar as of a cataract, with the rocking as of an earthquake, the
throbbing thing of iron sprang and fled through the night.

Hour after hour we rushed across the blinding desert of snow, in
which nothing showed except the flying disk of light cast by the
engine lamps, and the red and white balls of fire that seemed to
start, alight, and go out again as we frantically dashed past some
wayside station.

As the speed increased the light pilot engine, not steadied by a
long train of coaches, almost rose from the rails as it raced along.
Over and over again I thanked my stars that there were no curves to
be taken, and I blessed the memory of that famous ruler wielded by
the hand of Nicholas I. Here and there, at some slight rise in the
ground, the engine literally did leave the rails and skim through the
air for a few yards, alighting with a jar that brought my teeth
together like castanets, and rushing forward again.

I clung to a small brass hand-rail, and strained my eyes through the
darkness. I could not have sat down, even had there been a seat
provided for me--the pace was too tremendous. I was tired and unwell,
and a slight feeling of headache and sickness began to gain on me,
engendered by the vibration of the engine, the smell of oil, and the
fearful heat of the furnace.

It was some hours since we had started, but it was still pitch dark,
with the wintry blackness of a northern night. I leaned and gazed
forward with dull eyes, when I was aware of two red sparks that did
not grow and rush toward us as I expected.

Were we slackening speed by any chance? I turned to the engine
driver, and pointed with my hand.

The grimy toiler nodded. Then making a trumpet of his hands he
shouted above the rattle of the wheels--

"The rear-lights of the express!"

CHAPTER VIII

THE