Page:Kéraban the Inflexible Part 1 (Jules Verne).djvu/171

Rh and fortune, accustomed to have everything he desired, and a man whom opposition would drive to excesses. There was something of the savage in his nature, in which the Turk bordered on the Arab.

This gentleman wore a simple travelling costume cut in the fashion usual with rich Osmanlis, who are more Asiatic than European. No doubt he wished to conceal the fact of his real importance under his sombre cafetan.

Just as the chaise reached the centre of the railway, the riding party also arrived there. Owing to the narrow space between the gates, only the chaise or the riders could pass at a time. One party or the other must give way.

The chaise stopped. So did the cavalcade: but it did not appear that the newcomer was at all inclined to yield to Kéraban. Turk against Turk could hardly fail to bring about some complication.

"Stand aside!" cried Kéraban, as the horses were halted face to face.

"Stand aside yourselves!" replied the newcomer, who seemed determined not to budge an inch.

"I arrived first!"

"Well then you will pass second!"

"I will not give way."

"Neither will I."

Begun in this fashion, the discussion threatened to reach an unpleasant pitch.

"Uncle", said Ahmet, "it will not matter to us—"

"Nephew, it matters very much."

"My friend—" began Van Mitten.

"Leave me alone," replied Kéraban, in a tone which drove the Dutchman into his corner.

Then the gate-keeper cried—

"Make haste, make haste! the train will be here directly, make haste!"

But Kéraban scarcely heard him. Having opened the door of the chaise he got out, followed by Van Mitten and Ahmet, while Bruno and Nizib jumped from the "cabriolet."

Kéraban walked up to the chief cavalier and put his hand on the horse's bridle.

"Will you let me pass?" he cried, with a violence he could not control.

"Never."

"We will soon see that."

"See that?"

"You do not know Kéraban."

"Neither do you know Saffar."

It was, in fact, Seigneur Saffar, who was proceeding to Poti after a rapid journey in the Southern Caucasus. But the name of Saffar, the man who had anticipated the relays at Kertsch, only excited Kéraban still more. To yield to this man, who had already annoyed him—never! He would rather be trampled under his horse's feet.

"Ah, so you are the Seigneur Saffar! Well then, go back, Seigneur Saffar!"

"Forward!" exclaimed Saffar, signing to his men to force their way across.

Ahmet and Van Mitten, feeling assured that nothing would make Kéraban yield, prepared to assist him.

"Pass on, pass on!" cried the gatekeeper. "Here is the train."

At that moment the whistle of the approaching locomotive was heard as it came round the curve.

"Go back!" exclaimed Kéraban.

"Go back!" cried Saffar.

The whistle of the locomotive became more audible and warning in tone. The gate-keeper waved his flag with the intention to stop the train. He was too late. It came round the curve rapidly.

Seigneur Saffar, seeing that he had only just time to excape, retreated quickly. Bruno and Nizib threw themselves aside. Ahmet and Van Mitten, seizing Kéraban, dragged him through; and the postilion, whipping his horses, impelled them outside the rapidly closing gates.

At that moment the express passed. But it struck the hinder portion of the chaise, which it knocked to pieces, and disappeared without the travellers having experienced any injury from the broken part. Seigneur Kéraban,