Poor Tipps could not speak--he could only gasp the word, "Where?"

"In a third-class, behind--there, it is safe, I see."

His friend at once leaped towards the vehicle pointed out, but Edwin did

not follow, he glanced wildly round in search of another carriage.

"You are hurt--Mr Gurwood, if I mistake not,--lean on me," said Mr

Sharp.

"It's nothing--only a scratch. Ha! that's the carriage, follow me,"

cried Edwin, struggling towards a first-class carriage, which appeared

considerably damaged, though it had not left the rails. He wrenched

open the door, and, springing in, found Captain Lee striving in vain to

lift his daughter, who had fainted. Edwin stooped, raised her in his

arms, and, kicking open the door on the opposite side, leaped down,

followed by the captain. They quickly made their way to the station,

where they found most of the passengers, hurt and unhurt, already

assembled, with two doctors, who chanced to be in the train, attending

to them.

Edwin laid his light burden tenderly on a couch and one of the doctors

immediately attended to her. While he was applying restoratives Mr

Blunt touched Edwin on the elbow and requested him to follow him. With

a feeling of sudden anger Gurwood turned round, but before he could

speak his eye fell on Mrs Tipps, who sat on a bench leaning on her

son's breast, and looking deadly pale but quite composed.

"My dear Mrs Tipps," exclaimed the youth, stepping hastily forward, "I

hope--I trust--"

"Oh, Edwin--thank you, my dear fellow," cried Joseph, grasping his hand

and shaking it. "She is not hurt, thank God--not even a scratch--only a

little shaken. Fetch a glass of water, you'll find one in the

booking-office."

Gurwood ran out to fetch it. As he was returning he met Captain Lee

leading his daughter out of the waiting-room.

"I sincerely hope that your daughter is not hurt," he said, in earnest

tones. "Perhaps a little water might--"

"No, thank you," said the captain somewhat stiffly.

"The carriage is waiting, sir," said a servant in livery, coming up at

the moment and touching his hat.

Emma looked at Edwin for a second, and, with a slight but perplexed

smile of acknowledgment, passed on.

Next moment the carriage drove away, and she was gone. Edwin at the

same time became aware of the fact that the pertinacious Blunt was at

his side. Walking quickly into the waiting-room he presented the glass

of water to Mrs Tipps, but to his surprise that eccentric lady rose

hastily and said,--"Thank you, Mr Gurwood, many thanks, but I am

better. Come, Joseph--let us hasten to our darling Netta. Have you

sent for a fly?"

"There is one waiting, mother--take my arm. Many, many thanks for your

kindness in coming with her, Gurwood," said Tipps. "I can't ask you to

come with me just now, I--"

The rest of his speech was lost in consequence of the impatient old lady

dragging her son away, but what had been heard of it was sufficient to

fill Mr Blunt with surprise and perplexity.

"Well, Blunt," said Mr Superintendent Sharp, coming up at that moment,

"what has brought you here?"

The detective related his story privately to his superior, and remarked

that he began to fear there must be some mistake.

"Yes, there is a mistake of some sort," said Sharp, with a laugh, "for

I've met him frequently at Clatterby station, and know him to be a

friend of Mr Tipps; but you have done your duty, Blunt, so you can now

leave the gentleman to me," saying which he went up to Edwin and entered

into an under-toned conversation with him, during which it might have

been observed that Edwin looked a little confused at times, and Mr

Sharp seemed not a little amused.

"Well, it's all right," he said at last, "we have telegraphed for a

special train to take on the passengers who wish to proceed, and you can

go back, if you choose, in the up train, which is about due. It will be

able to get past in the course of half-an-hour. Fortunately the rails

of the up-line are not damaged and the wreck can soon be cleared."

Just then the dandy with the sleepy eyes and long whiskers sauntered up

to the porter on duty, with an unconcerned and lazy air. He had

received no further injury than a shaking, and therefore felt that he

could afford to affect a cool and not-easy-to-be-ruffled demeanour.

"Aw--po-taw," said he, twirling his watch-key, "w'en d'you expect anotha

twain to take us on?"

"Don't know, sir, probably half-an-hour."

"Aw! Dooced awkwad. My fwend has got the bwidge of his nose damaged,

besides some sort of internal injuway, and won't be able to attend to

business to-night, I fear--dooced awkwad."

"D'you hear that?" whispered Sharp to Gurwood, as the "fwend" in

question--he with the checked trousers--sauntered past holding a

handkerchief to his nose. "I know by the way in which that was said

that there will be something more heard some day hence of our fop in

checks. Just come and stand with me in the doorway of the waiting-room,

and listen to what some of the other passengers are saying."

"Very hard," observed a middle-aged man with a sour countenance, who did

not present the appearance of one who had sustained any injury at all,

"very hard this. I shall miss meeting with a friend, and perhaps lose

doin' a good stroke of business to-night."

"Be thankful you haven't lost your life," said Will Garvie, who

supported the head of his injured mate.

"Mayhap I _have_ lost my life, young man," replied the other sharply.

"Internal injuries from accidents often prove fatal, and don't always

show at first. I've had a severe shake."

Here the sour-faced man shook himself slightly, partly to illustrate and

partly to prove his point.

"You're quite right, sur," remarked an Irishman, who had a bandage tied

round his head, but who did not appear to be much, if at all, the worse

of the accident. "It's a disgrace intirely that the railways should be

allowed to trait us in this fashion. If they'd only go to the trouble

an' expense of havin' proper signals on lines, there would be nothing o'

this kind. And if Government would make a law to have an arm-chair

fitted up in front of every locomotive and a director made to travel

with sich train, we'd hear of fewer accidents. But it's meself 'll come

down on 'em for heavy damages for this."

He pointed to his bandaged head, and nodded with a significant glance at

the company.

A gentleman in a blue travelling-cap, who had hitherto said nothing, and

who turned out to have received severer injuries than any other

passenger, here looked up impatiently, and said--

"It appears to me that there is a great deal of unjust and foolish talk

against railway companies, as if they, any more than other companies,

could avoid accidents. The system of signalling on a great part of this

line is the best that has been discovered up to this date, and it is

being applied to the whole line as fast as circumstances will warrant;

but you can't expect to attain perfection in a day. What would you

have? How can you expect to travel at the rate you do, and yet be as

safe as if you were in one of the old mail-coaches?"

"Right, sir; you're right," cried John Marrot energetically, raising

himself a little from the bench on which he lay, "right in sayin' we

shouldn't ought to expect parfection, but wrong in supposin' the old

mail-coaches was safer. W'y, railways is safer. They won't stand no

comparison. Here 'ave I bin drivin' on this 'ere line for the last

eight year an' only to come to grief three times, an' killed no more

than two people. There ain't a old coach goin', or gone, as could say

as much. An' w'en you come to consider that in them eight years I've

bin goin' more than two-thirds o' the time at an average o' forty mile

an hour--off an' on--all night a'most as well as all day, an' run

thousands and thousands o' miles, besides carryin' millions of

passengers, more or less, it do seem most rediklous to go for to say

that coaches was safer than railways--the revarse bein' the truth. Turn

me round a bit, Bill; so, that'll do. It's the bad leg I come down on,

else I shouldn't have bin so hard-up. Yes, sir, as you truly remark,

railway companies ain't fairly dealt with, by no means."

At this point the attention of the passengers was attracted by a

remarkably fat woman, who had hitherto lain quietly on a couch breathing

in a somewhat stertorous manner. One of the medical men had been so

successful in his attention to her as to bring her to a state of

consciousness. Indeed she had been more or less in this condition for

some time past, but feeling rather comfortable than otherwise, and

dreamy, she had lain still and enjoyed herself. Being roused, however,

to a state of activity by means of smelling-salts, and hearing the

doctor remark that, except a shaking, she appeared to have sustained no

injury, this stout woman deemed it prudent to go off into hysterics, and

began by uttering a yell that would have put to shame a Comanchee

Indian, and did more damage, perhaps, to the nerves of her sensitive

hearers than the accident itself. She followed it up by drumming

heavily on the couch with her heels.

Singularly enough her yell was replied to by the whistle of the up

train, that had been due for some time past. She retorted by a renewed

shriek, and became frantic in her assurances that no power yet

discovered--whether mechanical, moral, or otherwise--could or would,

ever persuade her to set foot again in a railway train! It was of no

use to assure her that no one meant to exert such a power, even if he

possessed it; that she was free to go where she pleased, and whenever

she felt inclined. The more that stout woman was implored to compose

herself, the more she discomposed herself, and everybody else; and the

more she was besought to be calm, the more, a great deal, did she fill

the waiting-room with hysterical shrieks and fiendish laughter, until at

last every one was glad to go out of the place and get into the train

that was waiting to take them back to Clatterby. Then the stout woman

became suddenly calm, and declared to a porter--who must have had a

heart of stone, so indifferent was he to her woes--that she would be,

"glad to proceed to the nearest 'otel if 'e would be good enough to

fetch her a fly."

"H'm!" said Mr Sharp, as he and young Gurwood entered a carriage

together, after having seen John Marrot placed on a pile of rugs on the

floor of a first-class carriage; "there's been work brewin' up for me

to-night."

"How? What do you mean?" asked Edwin.

"I mean that, from various indications which I observed this evening, we

are likely to have some little correspondence with the passengers of the

6:30 p.m. train. However, we're used to it; perhaps we'll get not to

mind it in course of time. We do all that we can to accommodate the

public--fit up our carriages and stations in the best style compatible

with giving our shareholders a small dividend--carry them to and fro

over the land at little short of lightning speed, every day and all day

and night too, for extremely moderate fares, and with excessive safety

and exceeding comfort; enable them to live in the country and do

business in the city, as well as afford facilities for visiting the very

ends of the earth in a few days; not to mention other innumerable

blessings to which we run them, or which we run _to_ them, and yet no

sooner does a rare accident occur (as it _will_ occur in every human

institution, though it occurs less on railways than in most other

institutions) than down comes this ungrateful public upon us with

indignant cries of `disgraceful!' and, in many cases, unreasonable

demands for compensation."

"Such is life," said Gurwood with a smile.

"On the rail," added Mr Superintendent Sharp with a sigh, as the

whistle sounded and the train moved slowly out of the station.

The Iron Horse · 第 12 / 54 题