Doors began to slam, and John Marrots iron horse let off a little impatient steam. Just then the late passenger arrived. There is always a late passenger at every train. On this occasion the late passenger was a short-sighted elderly gentleman in a brown top-coat and spectacles. He was accompanied by a friend, who assisted him to push through the crowd of people who had come to see their friends away, or were loitering about for pastime. The late passenger carried a bundle of wraps; the boots of his hotel followed with his portmanteau.
All right sir; plenty of time, observed Sam Natly, coming up and receiving the portmanteau from boots. Which class, sir?
Ehohthird; no, stay, second, cried the short-sighted gentleman, endeavouring vainly to open his purse to pay boots. Here, hold my wraps, Fred.
His friend Fred chanced at that moment to have been thrust aside by a fat female in frantic haste and Edwin Gurwood, occupying the exact spot he had vacated, had the bundle thrust into his hand. He retained it mechanically, in utter abstraction of mind. The bell rang, and the magnificent guard, whose very whiskers curled with an air of calm serenity, said, Now then, take your seats; make haste. Edwin grew desperate. Emma smiled bewitchingly to a doting female friend who had nodded and smiled bewitchingly to Emma for the last five minutes, under the impression that the train was just going to start, and who earnestly wished that it would start, and save her from the necessity of nodding or smiling any longer.
Am I to lose sight of her for ever? muttered Gurwood between his teeth.
The magnificent guard sounded his whistle and held up his hand. Edwin sprang forward, pulled open the carriage door, leaped in and sat down opposite Emma Lee! The iron horse gave two sharp responsive whistles, and sent forth one mighty puff. The train moved, but not with a jerk; it is only clumsy drivers who jerk trains; sometimes pulling them up too soon, and having to make a needless plunge forward again, or overrunning their stopping points and having to check abruptly, so as to cause in timorous minds the impression that an accident has happened. In fact much more of ones comfort than is generally known depends upon ones driver being a good one. John Marrot was known to the regular travellers on the line as a first-rate driver, and some of them even took an interest in ascertaining that he was on the engine when they were about to go on a journey. It may be truly said of John that he never started his engine at all. He merely as it were insinuated the idea of motion to his iron steed, and so glided softly away.
Just as the train moved, the late passenger thrust head and shoulders out of the window, waved his arms, glared abroad, and shouted, or rather spluttered
My bbbundle!wraps!rug!lost!
A smart burly man, with acute features, stepped on the footboard of the carriage, and, moving with the train, asked what sort of rug it was.
Eh! a bbblue one, wiwi
With, interrupted the man, black outside and noo straps?
Yeyeyesyes!
All right, sir, you shall have it at the next station, said the acute-faced man, stepping on the platform and allowing the train to pass. As the guards van came up he leaped after the magnificent guard into his private apartment and shut the door.
Hallo! Davy Blunt, somethin up? asked the guard.
Yes, Joe Turner, there is somethin up, replied the acute man, leaning against the brake-wheel. You saw that tall good-lookin feller wi the eyeglass and light whiskers?
I did. Seemed to me as if his wits had gone on wi the last train, an he didnt know how to overtake em.
I dont know about his wits, said Blunt, but it seems to me that hes gone on in this train with somebody elses luggage.
The guard whistlednot professionally, but orally.
You dont say so?
The acute man nodded, and, leaning his elbows on the window-sill, gazed at the prospect contemplatively.
In a few minutes the 6:30 p.m. train was flying across country at the rate of thirty-five or forty miles an hour.
Chapter Four.
A Double Dilemma and its Consequences
Meanwhile, the tall good-looking fellow with the eyeglass and light whiskers sat quaking opposite Emma Lee. The extreme absurdity, not to say danger, of his position as a traveller to nowhere without a ticket, flashed upon him when too late, and he would have cheerfully given fifty pounds, had he possessed such a sum, if the boards under his feet would have opened and let him drop between the rails. In fact he felt so confused and guilty thatalbeit not naturally a shy youthhe did not dare to look at Emma for some time after starting, but sat with downcast eyes, revolving in his mind how he was to get out of the dilemma; but the more he revolved the matter the more hopeless did his case appear. At length he ventured to look at Emma, and their eyes encountered. Of course Gurwood looked pointedly out at the window and became fascinated by the landscape; and of course Emma, looked out at the other window, and became equally interested in the landscape. Feeling very unhappy; Edwin soon after that took out a newspaper and tried to read, but failed so completely that he gave it up in despair and laid the paper on the seat beside him.
Just then a happy thought flashed into his mind. He would go on to Langrye station, get out there, and make a confidant of his friend Joseph Tipps, who, of course, could easily get him out of his difficulty. He now felt as if a mighty load were lifted off his heart, and, his natural courage returning, he put up his eyeglass, which had been forgotten during the period of his humiliation, and gazed at the prospect with increasing interestnow through the right window, and then through the lefttaking occasion each time to glance with still greater interest at Emma Lees beautiful countenance.
The captain, whose disposition was sociable, and who had chatted a good deal with his daughter while their vis-à-vis was in his agony, soon took occasion to remark that the scenery was very fine. Edwin, gazing at the black walls of a tunnel into which they plunged, and thinking of Emmas face, replied that it wasextremely. Emerging from the tunnel, and observing the least possible approach to a smile on. Emmas lips, Edwin remarked to the captain that railway travelling presented rather abrupt changes and contrasts in scenery. The captain laughingly agreed with this, and so, from one thing to another, they went on until the two got into a lively conversationCaptain Lee thinking his travelling companion an extremely agreeable young fellow, and Edwin esteeming the captain one of the jolliest old boys he had ever met! These are the very words he used, long after, in commenting on this meeting to his friend Joseph Tipps.
During a pause in the conversation, Emma asked her father to whom a certain villa they were passing belonged.
I dont know, replied the captain; stay, let me see, I ought to know most of the places hereaboutsno, I cant remember.
I rather think it belongs to a Colonel Jones, said Gurwood, for the first time venturing to address Emma directly. A friend of mine who is connected with this railway knows him, and has often spoken to me about him. The colonel has led an extremely adventurous life, I believe.
Indeed!
There was not much apparently in that little word, but there must have been something mysterious in it, for it caused Edwins heart to leap as it had never leapt before. On the strength of it he began to relate some of Colonel Joness adventures, addressing himself now partly to the captain and partly to Emma. He had a happy knack of telling a story, and had thoroughly interested his hearers when the train slowed and stopped, but as this was not the station at which he meant to get outLangrye being the nexthe took no notice of the stoppage. Neither did he pay any regard to a question asked by the acute man, whose face appeared at the window as soon as the train stopped.
I dont know, replied the captain; stay, let me see, I ought to know most of the places hereaboutsno, I cant remember.
I rather think it belongs to a Colonel Jones, said Gurwood, for the first time venturing to address Emma directly. A friend of mine who is connected with this railway knows him, and has often spoken to me about him. The colonel has led an extremely adventurous life, I believe.
Indeed!
There was not much apparently in that little word, but there must have been something mysterious in it, for it caused Edwins heart to leap as it had never leapt before. On the strength of it he began to relate some of Colonel Joness adventures, addressing himself now partly to the captain and partly to Emma. He had a happy knack of telling a story, and had thoroughly interested his hearers when the train slowed and stopped, but as this was not the station at which he meant to get outLangrye being the nexthe took no notice of the stoppage. Neither did he pay any regard to a question asked by the acute man, whose face appeared at the window as soon as the train stopped.
Is that your bundle, sir? repeated Mr Blunt a little louder.
Eh? yes, yesall right, replied Edwin, annoyed at the interruption, and thinking only of Emma Lee, to whom he turned, and went onWell, when Colonel Jones had scaled the first wall
Come, sir, said Blunt, entering the carriage, and laying his hand on Edwins shoulder, its not all right. This is another mans property.
The youth turned round indignantly, and, with a flushed countenance, said, What do you mean?
I mean that you are travelling with another mans property, said Blunt, quietly pointing to the strapped rug.
That is not my property, said Edwin, looking at it with a perplexed air, I never said it was.
Didnt you though? exclaimed Blunt, with an appealing look to the captain. Didnt you say, when I asked you, Yes, its all right. Moreover, young man, if its not yours, why did you bring it into the carriage with you?
I did not bring it into the carriage, said Edwin, firmly, and with increasing indignation. I came down to this train with a lady, who is now in it, and who can vouch for it that I brought no luggage of any kind with me. I
At this moment the elderly gentleman with brown top-coat and spectacles bustled up to the carriage, recognised his rug, and claimed it, with a good deal of fuss and noise.
Where are you travelling to? demanded Blunt, with a touch of sarcasm in his tone.
Poor Gurwoods countenance fell. He became somewhat pale, and said, in a much less resolute voice, You have no right to ask that question; but since you suspect me, I may tell you that I am going to Langrye.
Show your ticket, said the guard, looking in at that moment.
A glance showed the unhappy youth that Captain Lee was regarding him with surprise and Emma with intense pity. Desperation gave him courage. He turned abruptly to the captain, and said
I regret deeply, sir, that we part with such a foul suspicion hanging over me. Come, he added sternly to Blunt, I will go with you, and shall soon prove myself innocent.
He leaped to the platform, closely accompanied by Blunt.
Where do you intend to take me? he asked, turning to his guardian, whom he now knew to be a detective.
Here, step this way, said Blunt, leading his prisoner towards the rear of the train.
Such a nice-looking young man, too, whod ave thought it! whispered one of the many heads that were thrust out at the carriage-windows to look at him as he passed.
Get in here, said Blunt, holding open the door of an empty second-class compartment of the same train; we shant want a ticket for this part of the journey.
But the lady I mentioned, said poor Edwin, she can
You can see her at Langrye, young man; come, get in, said Blunt, sternly, the trains just starting.
Edwins blood boiled. He turned to smite the acute-visaged man to the earth, but encountering the serene gaze of the magnificent guard who stood close beside him, he changed his mind and sprang into the carriage. Blunt followed, the door was banged and locked, the signal was given and the train moved on.
Why do you take me to Langrye instead of back to town? asked Edwin, after proceeding some distance in silence.
Because we have an hour to wait for the up train, and its pleasanter waiting there than here, replied Blunt; besides, I have business at Langrye; I want to see one of my friends there who is looking after light-fingered gentry.
As this was said significantly Edwin did not deign a reply, but, leaning back in a corner, gazed out at the window and brooded over his unhappy fate. Truly he had something to brood over. Besides being in the unpleasant position which we have described, he had quite recently lost his only relative, a rich uncle, as he was called, who had brought Edwin up and had led him to believe that he should be his heir. It was found, however, on the examination of the old gentlemans affairs, that his fortune was a myth, and that his house, furniture, and personal effects would have to be sold in order to pay his debts. When all was settled, Edwin Gurwood found himself cast upon his own resources with good health, a kind but wayward disposition, a strong handsome frame, a middling education, and between three and four hundred pounds in his pocket. He soon found that this amount of capital melted with alarming rapidity under the influence of a good appetite and expensive tastes, so he resolved at once to commence work of some kind. But what was he to turn to? His uncle had allowed him to do as he pleased. Naturally it pleased the energetic and enthusiastic boy to learn very little of anything useful, to read an immense amount of light literature, and to indulge in much open-air exercise.
Bitterly did he now feel, poor fellow, that this course, although somewhat pleasing at the time, did not fit him to use and enjoy the more advanced period of life. He had disliked and refused to sit still even for an hour at a time in boyhood; it now began to dawn upon him that he was doomed for life to the greatest of all his horrors, the top of a three-legged stool! He had hated writing and figures, and now visions of ledgers, cash-books, invoice-books and similar literature with endless arithmetical calculations began to float before his mental vision. With intense regret he reflected that if he had only used reasonably well the brief period of life which as yet lay behind him, he might by that time have been done with initial drudgery and have been entering on a brilliant career in one of the learned professions. As to the army and navy, he was too old to get into either, even if he had possessed interest, which he did not. Sternly did he reproach his departed uncle when he brooded over his wrongs, and soliloquised thus: You ought to have known that I was a fool, that I could not be expected to know the fact, or to guide myself aright in opposition to and despite of my own folly, and you ought to have forced me to study when I declined to be ledbah! its too late to say all this now. Come, if there is any manhood in me worthy of the name, let me set to work at once and make the most of what is left to me!
Edwin reflected with complacency on the fact that one part of what was left to him was a tall strong frame and broad shoulders, but his judgment told him that though these were blessings not to be despised, and for which he had every reason to be thankful, he ought not to plume himself too much on them, seeing that he shared them in common with numerous prize-fighters and burglars, besides which they could not prove of very much value professionally unless he took to mining or coal-heaving. He also reflected sadly on the fact that beyond the three Rs, a little Latin and French, and a smattering of literary knowledge, he was little better than a red Indian. Being, as we have said, a resolute fellow, he determined to commence a course of study without delay, but soon found that the necessity of endeavouring to obtain a situation and of economising his slender fortune interfered sadly with his efforts. However, he persevered.