I couldn't stop indoors, for I couldn't bear to see them all. The
children didn't seem to mind it so much, for they ran about and played,
and their little hearts were light; but there was some one sitting by
the wretched little fire, looking that pale and worn and miserable, that
it went quite to one's heart.
Christmas-morning, with the bright sun shining in through the dirty
windows, while from everywhere the rays went flashing as they lighted
upon the frost, rime, or snow. Such of the blue sky as we could see
from our court, was as bright and clear a blue as could be seen out in
the country, while the pavement looked dry, and you could hear the snow
crunch under the people's feet. But there was no brightness with us,
and at last I went out, for I couldn't stop indoors.
Was it my fault? I kept asking myself; had I tried hard enough to get
took on again; or ought we to have been more saving when I had a
situation? Ah! I asked myself all this again and again as I went out,
leaving them at home in a regular state of beggary; for we had come down
to the last shilling.
I've always noticed as poor men keep their hands in their pockets; and I
did mine that sharp, cold morning, and went sauntering along the
streets, wondering what it would all come to, and how we were to manage.
There was every one I met looking cheerful and bright; here and there
shops a little way open, just as if they were winking at you, because
they were so full of all sorts of good things; people were going in and
coming out with loaded baskets; while, when I got near the baker's, it
was enough to make a hungry man savage to see the stream of people, with
their happy, jolly faces, bearing in geese, turkeys, and great fat
mottled pieces of beef; and all looking as though there wasn't such a
thing as poverty.
Everybody seemed in a hurry, and every face seemed twinkling and bright
with the thoughts of good things to come, till at last, from feeling low
and miserable, I got to be reckless and savage, and felt as if I should
have liked to have had it out with the world there on the spot.
Every one you met in the big streets was like nature that morning--
dressed in the best clothes; some bound for church, some out visiting;
and do what I would, I couldn't find one face that looked miserable.
There were the cabs and carriages rattling along; 'buses loaded; the
bells ringing merrily; while there seemed to be a something in the air
that made you feel bright in spite of yourself; and after being savage
for an hour and a half, I seemed to catch the infection from the people
about, and more than once I caught myself going to whistle.
But the thoughts of what I'd left at home made me stop short, with my
face all screwed up, and from going to one extreme I got to another; and
at last, ready to break down, I found myself sitting on the
stone-setting of the railings of one of the West End churches.
Beadle comes out after a bit and has a look at me, as much as to say,
"Are you a beggar, or ain't you?" but he never says nothing; and after a
bit he goes in again. Policeman comes by beating his white gloves
together, and he looks very suspiciously at me, as if he couldn't quite
make up his mind; and then he goes on, and says nothing. And there I
sat in the cold, feeling nothing but the misery gripping at my heart,
and at last, seeing nothing but a pale worn face in a bare room, where a
troop of hungry children were wanting bread.
Sounds strange that, and some may think it stretched. But let them
climb some of the dirty stairs at the East end, and they can find such
sights any day and every day.
No; I could see nothing then, but the place we called home; and I might
have sat there till I froze, if all at once something that seemed almost
like a vision had not come before me; for as I sat there with my head
upon my hands, there came a light touch, and looking up, there stood a
little bright-eyed, golden-haired child before me, her beautiful cheeks
ruddy with the keen air, while a tiny bright tear was in each eye, as
with a pitying look she pushed a penny into my hand; when I was so
utterly took aback, that her bright scarlet cloak was some distance off
as she tripped along beside a tall stately lady, before I could recover
myself.
That did it. It seemed to bear down pride, anger, everything, and
taking me so suddenly, I couldn't bear it, but there in that open street
my head went down again upon my hands, and in the hopeless misery of my
heart I cried like a child.
But only for a minute, when I jumped up and hurried along the street, to
catch one more sight of the bright pitying little angel; but she was
gone, and at last, making sure that she had gone into one of the houses,
I walked slowly back to the churchyard.
When I got there the people were beginning to come out of the big
church: carriages were drawing up; from out of the open doors there came
the rolling sound of the organ; and as I stood there against the
railings, watching the happy-looking crowd, it seemed to me that I must
be a sort of impostor, for to see how folks were dressed there couldn't
be such a thing as misery in the world.
All at once I started, and took hold of the railing, for I heard a voice
that put me in mind of the time when I was started from the Great
Central line. Just in front of me, and coming towards a carriage that a
lad held open, were a lady and gentleman dressed tip-top, and he was
laughing and chatting to her. But I only just saw that she was very
handsome, for I was watching the gentleman's eyes--bright, piercing blue
eyes, such as you seldom see; and in a regular state of muddle in my own
mind, and wondering about where those eyes had come across me before, I
leaned forward right in the way, staring fixed-like at him.
"Stand back, my good fellow," he says, and then, just as the lady
lightly stepped into the carriage, he stops short, fixes those eyes of
his on to mine, and then, with his hand playing with his big brown
moustache, he burst out laughing, when I knew him in a moment. It _was_
him; and as I thought of the misery of the past year that he had caused,
something seemed to rise up in me, and for a moment I felt as if I could
have knocked him down. But the clenching of my fist made me feel that
penny, and that brought up another face, when turning dejected once
more, I turned aside, saying--
"Ah! it's fun for you, but pretty nigh death for me;" but before I'd got
two steps off, he had his hand on my shabby blackened moleskin jacket,
and he says--
"Gently, my friend, I must introduce you;" and before I knew what he was
about, he had me at the door of the carriage, and he says--"Look,
Marian, here's our honest charioteer, the Vulcan who drove us down to
Moreton;" and then he whispered something that made the lady smile, and
a bright colour come all over her handsome face. "Do you drive the mail
now?" he says, turning to me.
"_Never_ touched a handle since, sir," I says. "They had me afore the
board two mornings after, and discharged me." And then the thoughts of
it all seemed too much for me, and I turned husky and choky, and
couldn't speak for a minute, when I says, with a sort of gulp:--
"Can't help it, sir; I've been werry hard drove since--wife--children--"
and then I choked again as I shunted off what I was saying.
"Stand back a bit," says the gentleman to his servant, and then, in so
kind and gentle a way, he says to me--"Why, my poor fellow, I wouldn't
have had this happen on any account;" and then I saw a tear or two in
his lady's beautiful eyes, and they both stopped talking to me a good
quarter of an hour, free as could be, telling me that they had me to
thank for much happiness, as theirs was a runaway match. And at last,
when they drove off, nodding and smiling at me, I had the gentleman's
card, so as to call on him next morning, when he said his father, being
a railway director, I should be took on the line at once; and, what was
more to the purpose then, there were five sovereigns in my hand.
I didn't know what to do, whether to laugh or cry; and I'm sure I must
have looked like a madman as I tore through the streets, and rushed
upstairs into our room, when the first thing I did was to scrape up
every bit of coal at the bottom of the cupboard and put it a-top of the
fire.
"Lay the cloth, my lass," I says, seizing a dish; "and, Lord bless you,
look alive!" The children stared, and then laughed and clapped their
hands, while I rushed out to the cook's shop in the lane, looking like a
wolf.
There was a roast goose just up, and cissing away in the big pewter dish
all amongst the gravy, with the stuffing a smelling that rich, it was
enough to drive you mad.
Just as I slipped into the door, the waiter--red-nosed chap--with a
dirty white wisp of a handkercher round his neck, looking like a seedy
undertaker--the waiter says: "Two goose--apple sauce--and taters;" and
the master sticks his fork into the buzzum, and makes a cut as sent the
stuffing all out of a gush.
"Hold hard," I says, "that's mine;" and ketching hold of one leg, before
he knew what I was up to, it was on my dish. "Now then, ladle on that
gravy," I says, "and let's have the setrers;" and saying that, I dabs a
sovrin down on the edge of the pewter.
I think they were going to send out for a policeman, but the sight of
that little bit of metal settled it, and five minutes after I was
carrying the change--not much of it neither--the goose under a cover,
and the waiter following behind with a tray, with vegetables, sauce, and
aside the great wedge of pudding, a pot of half-and-half.
When the waiter had gone out of the room, and the little ones were
hooraying and tapping with their knives, I got to the top of the table,
the wife went to the bottom, and I began to say grace, when our eyes
met, she ran to me, and then for a good ten minutes she was a sobbing in
my arms; while I--there; that's private, and I think I've confessed
enough.
There; I don't care whose it was, or where it was, all I know is this,
that there wasn't such a dinner eaten or enjoyed anywhere that day
throughout the length and breadth of our old country; and though
sometimes it was hard to see where I stuck the fork, or cut with the
knife, I was smiling all the time. As for the wife, she would keep
breaking down till I shouted at her, when she went at it and helped me
keep the young ones going; and at last of all I'd have taken a shilling
for what was left of the goose, and whoever bought it wouldn't have been
the best off in the bargain.
The very next week I was took on the London, Highshare, and Ploughshare
railway, and that through the gent who got me discharged from the Great
Central, which happened this way.
The Christmas-Eve afore what I've told you was one of those yaller,
smoky, foggy times, when trains are all later than they should be, even
worse than might be expected at Christmas-time. The lamps were burning
in the booking offices all day, while the steam hung like a cloud in the
roof of the terminus. I was sitting in the engine-shed on our horse--
steam-horse you know--waiting to run the mail down to the north, when
Ben Davis, my stoker, says:
"There they goes again, `bang, bang,' I wonder what it's cost the
company to-day in fog signals;" and then as I didn't say nothing, he
says, "Ah! this is just such a night as it was four years agone, when
poor Tom Harris was cut up the night afore the pitch in,"--smash you
know. "Poor Tom; he knowed it was a-comin' to that, and he told me all
about it; for I stoked him."
Just then time was up, and all hot and hissing, I runs out to the
switches, and comes back on to the down line, where we were coupled on
to the train, when Ben goes on: "Poor chap; he'd been outer sorts for
some time, and I do think he took more than he should; but one way and
another, he was horribly low-spirited, and would quite upset you with
the way he'd talk. The last night as I stoked him, he got telling me
his reg'lar tale, about a run down he had, and one as he had never
forgotten about, being on full swing in a terribly dark foggy night, he
heard a whistle, and looking back he could see a train coming on at an
awful rate just behind him, when of course he put on more steam. But
that didn't seem no good; for coming round the curve, he could see the
train closing up fast; and at last, when half mad with fear, and ready
to jump off, he saw that the train was on the up line, and the next
minute it was alongside his; and there they two were racing abreast of
each other; when he slackened, the other slackened; and when he did
t'other, they did t'other. Same length train; same size engine; same
lights; and fire door open like his; so that he could see the driver's
face; and he says, says he, `I nearly dropped; for it was me as was
driving that 'tother train.' On they goes together into the tunnel, and
out they goes together. When he looked back, there was all the
carriages lit up, and all just as if it was his own train; but whistling
at the short stations when he did, and keeping an exactly same pace. It
was like being in a cloud, the fog was so heavy; while the steam from
both funnels mixed together.
"It was Christmas-eve, just like this; and yet cold as it was, he said,
poor chap, the water dripped from his face as they rushed on. He knew
it couldn't last long, for there'd be an up-train directly, and then
there must be a fearful smash; but yet something seemed to tell him as
there wouldn't; and watching as they went by station after station, he
stood trembling at his post. All at once he could see the up-train
coming; and then he put on a spurt so as to be ahead when the smash
came; but that was no use, for the train kept aside his, and then all at
once there was a shriek, and a rush, and the up-train was right behind;
while along side his, there was that same engine just in the same place,
and him a-driving it. Poor Tom used to make me creep when he told that
tale, and he didn't live long arter; for one night there was something
wrong in front of our engine, when he wouldn't wait till we stopped, but
got along as we were going, and when I was expecting him to come back,
and looked--for I'd been putting on more coal--there was some blood
splashed all about the screen, and when I stopped and run back, there
was poor Tom lying all to bits in the six foot. And they do say as he's
been seen by some of the chaps a running a ghost engine along the line
at express rate, sometimes one line, and sometimes the other; and when
he meets another train, there's a whistle and shriek, and he's gone."
"That's werry pretty," I says. "I'd have that put in a book, if I was
you;" and just then there was a bit of door banging, the second bell
rang, the guard's whistle chirrupped, and then with a scream we started,
the steam puffing out of the funnel in round white balls, and slowly
spreading overhead till it came faster, and hanging over us like a plume
of white feathers, it streamed back over the train.
Such a night: thick as thick; and every now and then it was "bang, bang"
as we went over the fog signals, and had to pull up and go very slowly,
so that we were a good ten minutes going the first half-mile; and then
past the first short station we went very slowly.
Thirty-five miles down was our first stoppage, where we took in water,
and then another forty took us to Moreton, which was our next stoppage.
By degrees we got on faster and faster, but the darkness was something
terrible; while the signal lights at the short stations were almost
useless, for I couldn't see them till we were close up, so being already
very late through its being Christmas-time I pushed her along, trusting
to the line being all clear.
"Ah!" says Ben all at once, "we're jest a-coming to the spot where poor
Tom was cut up. Poor old chap," he says; "and it was just here as he
first saw that train running by his side."
Now, of course, I knew well enough that it was all gammon; but Ben
talked so serious that it give me quite a shiver, and as we came
suddenly upon the lights of a station, and raced through, my heart gave
a jump, for it almost seemed as if a train was aside us; and even after
passing the station, I looked out, for there was the train lights
reflected on the fog on each side; but directly after I laughed at
myself.
"It was just about here as he must have gone down," says Ben to me--
shouting in my ear, for we were going fast; "and they do say as
sometimes he mounts an engine and--_Yah-h-h_!" cried the poor fellow,
falling down upon his hands and knees; while regularly took aback, I
shrunk trembling up in the corner of the screen, and there stopped
staring at a horrible looking figure, as seemed to start all at once
into the light just as if he'd rose out of the coals. And then he came
right up to me, for poor Ben had fainted.
As we were staring at one another I could see as the figure was buttoned
up in an oilskin coat, while a close fur cap covered its head, and a
handkercher was round the lower part of the face, so that I could see
nothing but a pair of fierce bright eyes; and there it stood with one
hand holding the side of the screen.
As long as I kept quiet it never moved; but directly I tried to get to
my place it motioned me back. At last, half-desperate, I faced it; for
a bit of thinking told me it must be a man, though Ben's story had a bit
upset me.
"Here's Richford close here," I shouts, "where we stops;" but in a
moment I saw the barrel of a pistol flashing in the light of the fire,
and then I shrunk back again into the corner. If he would only have
turned his back for a moment I should have pinned him, but he only
glanced round once, when Ben shuffled back into the far corner of the
tender; and there we were five minutes after rushing through Richford at
full speed.
"Now," he says, leaning down to me, "rouse up, and push on faster; and
don't you dare to stop till we get to Moreton:" and when a man says this
to you with a pistol in his hand, why, what else can you do but mind.
"Now," thinks I, "this is a pretty go;" and then I kicks up Ben to come
and stoke; but he wouldn't move, and what wanted doing I had to do
myself; and so we raced on, for he made me put on more steam, seeing
through my dodge in a moment, when I slackened instead; and on we went,
with the night seeming to grow darker every moment. But it was race on,
past station after station like a flash; and, one way and another, I
began to grow excited. The guard had been letting go at the gong, but
of course I could take no notice; no doubt, too, he had screwed down his
break, but that seemed to make very little difference, with the metals
in such a greasy state with the heavy frosty mist; and we raced along at
such a rate as I've never been at since.
More than once, I made sure we should be crash into the tail of some
goods-train; but though we passed several coming up, nothing was in our
way, and at last, after the wildest ride I ever had, we began to get
near Moreton, just as the water was beginning to get low. "And now," he
says, fiercely, "draw up just this side of the station;" and I nodded:
but, for all that, I meant to have run right in, but he was too quick
for me, and screwed down the brake so that we stopped a good fifty yards
short of the platform, when he leaped down, and I was going to follow,
but a rough voice said, "Stand back," and I could see some one in front
of me; while, by the lights of the train, I just saw a carriage next the
tender opened, and some one hurried off to where a couple of lights were
shining; and I could hear horses stamping; and then--it all didn't take
a minute--there was the trampling of hoofs and the rolling of wheels,
and the man who stopped me from getting down was gone.
"Get up," I says to Ben, as we run into the station; "it warn't a
ghost:" but Ben seemed anything but sure on that point. While, as we
finished our journey that night, I put that and that together, and made
out as this chap, who must have been a plucky fellow, got from the next
carriage on to the tender while we were crawling through the fog just
outside London; and all to prevent stopping at Richford, where, no
doubt, somebody had telegraphed for him to be taken; while, though the
message would perhaps be repeated to Moreton, it was not sure to be so,
and his dodge of stopping short where a conveyance was in waiting made
that all right.
I drove the up-mail next day to town; but that was my last on the Great
Central, for, when summoned before the Board, it was pay off, and go;
and that, too, without a character.