“I have been looking at the portion of the line damaged by the band of Ki-Tsang.  Most of the sleepers are still in place.  As to the rails, the scoundrels have simply thrown them onto the sand, and by replacing them end to end it would be easy to get the train over to the uninjured track.  It would not take a day to do this, and five hours afterward we should be at Tcharkalyk.”

Excellent notion, at once approved of by Popof, the driver, the passengers, and particularly by the baron.  The plan was possible, and if there were a few rails useless, we could bring to the front those we had already run over, and in this way get over the difficulty.

Evidently this Faruskiar is a man, he is our true chief, he is the personage I was in want of, and I will sound his name over the entire universe in all the trumpets of my chronicle!

And yet Major Noltitz is mistaken enough to see in him only a rival to this Ki-Tsang, whose crimes have just received their final punishment from his hand!

We set to work to replace the sleepers that had been shifted aside from where they had left their mark, and we continued our task without intermission.

Having no fear of being noticed amid the confusion which followed the attack, I went into the luggage van to assure myself that Kinko was safe and sound, to tell him what had passed, to caution him on no account to come put of his box.  He promised me, and I was at ease regarding him.

It was nearly three o’clock when we began work.  The rails had been shifted for about a hundred yards.  As Faruskiar remarked, it was not necessary for us to fix them permanently.  That would be the task of the workmen the company would send from Tcharkalyk when we reached that station, which is one of the most important on the line.

As the rails were heavy we divided ourselves into detachments.  First-class and second-class, all worked together with good will.  The baron displayed tremendous ardor.  Ephrinell, who thought no more of his marriage than if he had never thought about it, devoted strict attention to business.  Pan-Chao was second to nobody, and even Doctor Tio-King strove to make himself useful—­in the fashion of the celebrated Auguste, the fly on the chariot wheel.

“It is hot, this Gobi sun!” said Caterna.

Alone sat Sir Francis Trevellyan of Trevellyanshire, calm and impassive in his car, utterly regardless of our efforts.

At seven o’clock thirty yards of the line had been repaired.  The night was closing in.  It was decided to wait until the morning.  In half a day we could finish the work, and in the afternoon we could be off again.

We were in great want of food and sleep.  After so rude a task, how rude the appetite!  We met in the dining car without distinction of classes.  There was no scarcity of provisions, and a large breach was made in the reserves.  Never mind!  We can fill up again at Tcharkalyk.