TERRIBLE RAILWAY ACCIDENT.
Three days after Murray and Chivey embarked on their dreary voyage the
Harkaway party quitted Marseilles.
The waiter and the diver, so long young Jack's companions in adventure,
preferred remaining at Marseilles.
They had no home ties, and had so long been accustomed to a wandering
Continental life, that they had no great desire to settle down quietly
in England.
However, Harkaway senior made them a handsome present each, and he also
presented Monsieur Hocquart Clermont Delamarre with a very substantial
proof of his esteem and gratitude, and the detective was further
gratified by receiving from the two young ladies, Paquita and Emily, a
handsomely-mounted _carte de visite_ portrait.
"And now for home!" exclaimed our young hero.
"You will be sorry when you get there, won't you?" said Emily.
"No, dear; why should I be?"
"Because in England you can't go on as you have been doing, running
away with fair Circass----"
There was nobody looking, so Jack took the liberty of cutting the
reproach short with a kiss.
"You must not say any thing more about that, dear Emily; and, after
all, I don't think you would have approved of my leaving her to the
mercy of those Turks."
"That I should not, Jack."
The youth then handed his young sweetheart into one of the vehicles in
waiting, and off they started for the railway, where they found they
had to wait ten minutes.
To occupy the time they strolled up and down the platform.
Suddenly Harry Girdwood exclaimed--
"Why, where is Mr. Mole? Did he come in your carriage, Jack?"
"No; I thought he was with you."
"Left behind, by Jove!" exclaimed Harvey.
"Serve him right if I left him behind entirely," said Harkaway senior,
rather angrily.
He was on the point of sending one of the porters back to the hotel,
when Mr. Mole appeared.
Now there were two things that had delayed him.
One was that on the very morning Mr. Mole had mounted a new pair of
artificial legs made by the very best surgical instrument maker in
Marseilles.
Some time had been taken over the proper adjustment of these.
For the second reason--Mr. Mole had discovered that the hotel cellars
contained some excellent brandy, and he had been taking a parting glass
with the Irish diver before commencing his journey.
And as he now made his appearance on the railway platform, he was any
thing but steady on his new legs.
"Better late than never, Mr. Mole," said Harvey.
"I am not late."
"Yes, sir. Two minutes more, and the train will be here."
An engine was in fact at that moment shunting some carriages which were
to be attached to the train.
Mr. Mole turned on hearing the noise of the approaching locomotive.
But being, as aforesaid, slightly unsteady on his legs, he fell.
Fell right across the metals.
"Oh! help!" he cried.
But before anyone could stir, the engine was upon him.
The porters shouted, the ladies screamed with fright.
"Oh, Heaven! is it not horrible?" exclaimed a French man. "Did you not
hear the bones crash as the wheels went over his legs?"
"Over his legs," shouted Harvey. "Ha, ha! if that is all, it does not
matter much."
The engine stopped, and Mole was rescued from his perilous position.
He had fainted, but a glass of water restored him.
"Are you hurt, old man?" asked Dick.
"No; I think not. It's only my legs, nothing else."
"Great Heaven, what a narrow escape!"
"So it is; but here is a nuisance, both my legs cut clean off, six
inches above the ankle."
"Here, porter, put this gentleman in a first-class carriage," said
Harkaway senior.
"But, monsieur, he must be taken to the hospital; the surgeon is close
at hand."
"Doctor be hanged! This gentleman must go to Paris by the next train."
The porters, being evidently unwilling to touch Mr. Mole, Harkaway
said--
"Here, lend a hand, old man."
"All right," responded Harvey.
The pair of them immediately hoisted Mr. Mole into the carriage, the
others took their seats, the engineer blew his whistle, and off they
went.
To complete the horror of the spectators, who admired Mole's fortitude,
and loathed the apparent barbarity of his friends, as the train was
moving off, Harvey was plainly seen to cut off the old gentleman's
shattered limbs, and pitch them into some empty goods waggons that were
going in another direction.
"What horrid barbarians!" was the general exclamation of the bewildered
spectators of the strange scene.
"A pretty object you have made of me certainly," grumbled Mole, looking
down at his curtailed legs.
"Your own fault, Mr. Mole," responded Harvey.
"Lucky it was not your head, Mr. Mole," said young Jack.
"You are all against me, I see, but it does not matter."
So saying, Mole took out his pocket flask and was about to refresh
himself.
But Harkaway senior, stretching out his hand, took the flask.
"No, Mr. Mole; if you have any more, I fear we shall have a more
serious accident. So not a drop till the first time we stop."
"Why, this is a mail train, and only stops about every two hours."
"And I am quite sure you can exist without brandy for that little
time."
"Well, I suppose I may smoke then?"
"Certainly; you shall have one of my best regalias."
Mr. Mole took the weed, and puffed away rather sulkily.
They had got about eight miles from Marseilles when suddenly the engine
slackened speed, and the train drew up at a little roadside station.
"What does this mean?" said Harvey. "We ought not to stop here."
"This is our first stopping place, however, so I'll trouble you for my
flask, according to promise," said Mole, with a beaming countenance.
Harkaway handed it over and was settling back again when he heard a
police official asking--
"Where is the gentleman who was run over at Marseilles?"
"Here," said Harkaway.
The gendarme ran to the spot, and to his intense surprise saw the
victim of the accident in the act of taking a hearty drink from his
brandy flask while his left hand held a lighted cigar.
"What do you want?" demanded Mole.
"The officials at Marseilles, unable to stop the train, telegraphed to
me to see that you had proper medical attendance."
"Ha, ha, ha! look here, old boy; I always carry my own physic. Taste
it."
The officer took the flask, and finding that the smell was familiar,
applied it to his lips.
"The fact is," said Harkaway, "the gentleman was wearing wooden legs,
and they only were damaged."
"Indeed; then you think that you are able to proceed on your journey,
sir?"
"Yes, if you will leave me some of my medicine."
The gendarme bowed, handed back the flask, and the train rolled away.