and no mistake. As I'm a livin' man, as I was a shovin' of that there
truck, I saw a imp--a gashly imp, Bill, stick its hugly 'ed over the
side and say, 'Tommy,' it ses, jest like that--it ses, 'Tommy, I wants
you!' I dursn't go near it, Bill. I'll get leave, and go 'ome and lay
up--it glared at me so 'orrid, Bill, and grinned--ugh! I'll take the
pledge after this 'ere, I will--I'll go to chapel Sundays reg'lar!"
"Let's see if there ain't something there first," said the practical
Bill. "Easy with the 'oss up there. Now then," here he stepped on the
box of the wheel and looked in. "Shin out of this, whatever y'are, we
don't contrack to carry no imps on this line--Well, if ever I--Tommy,
old man, it's all right, y'ain't got 'em this time--'ere's yer imp!"
And, reaching over, he hauled out the wretched Paul by the scruff of his
neck in a state of utter collapse, and deposited him on the ground
before him.
"That ain't your private kerridge, yer know, that ain't--there wasn't no
bed made up there for you, that I know on. You ain't arter no good, now;
you're a wagabone! that's about your size, I can see--what d'yer mean by
it, eh?"
"Shet yer 'ed, Bill, will yer?" said Tommy, whose relief probably
softened his temper, "this here's a young gent."
"Young gent, or no young gent," replied Bill sententiously, "he's no
call to go 'idin' in our waggins and givin' 'ard-workin' men a turn.
'Old 'im tight, Tommy--here's the luggage down on us."
Tommy held him fast with a grip of iron, while the other porters coupled
the trucks, and the luggage train lumbered away with its load.
After this the men slouched up and stood round their captive, staring
at him curiously.
"Look here, my men," said Paul, "I've run away from school, I want to go
on to town by the next train, and I took the liberty of hiding in the
truck, because the schoolmaster will be up here very soon to look for
me--you understand?"
"I understand," said Bill, "and a nice young party _you_ are."
"I--I don't want to be caught," said Paul.
"Naterally," assented Tommy sympathetically.
"Well, can't you hide me somewhere where he won't see me? Come, you can
do that?"
"What do you say, Bill?" asked Tommy.
"What'll the Guv'nor say?" said Bill dubiously.
"I've got a little money," urged Paul. "I'll make it worth your while."
"Why didn't you say that afore?" said Bill; "the Guv'nor needn't know."
"Here's half-a-sovereign between you," said Paul, holding it out.
"That's something like a imp," said Tommy warmly; "if all bogeys acted
as 'andsome as this 'ere, I don't care how often they shows theirselves.
We'll have a supper on this, mates, and drink young Delirium Trimminses'
jolly good 'ealth. You come along o' me, young shaver, I'll stow you
away right enough, and let you out when yer train comes in."
He led Paul on to the platform again and opened a sort of cupboard or
closet. "That's where we keeps the brooms and lamp-rags, and them," he
said; "it ain't what you may call tidy, but if I lock you in no one
won't trouble you."
It was perfectly dark and the rags smelt unpleasantly, but Mr. Bultitude
was very glad of this second ark of refuge, even though he did bruise
his legs over the broom-handles; he was gladder still by-and-by, when he
heard a rapid heavy footfall outside, and a voice he knew only too
well, saying, "I want to see the station-master. Ha, there he is. Good
evening, station-master, you know me--Dr. Grimstone, of Crichton House.
I want you to assist me in a very unpleasant affair--the fact is, one of
my pupils has had the folly and wickedness to run away."
"You don't say so!" said the station-master.
"It's only too true, I'm sorry to say; he seemed happy and contented
enough, too; it's a black ungrateful business. But I must catch him, you
know; he must be about here somewhere, I feel sure. You don't happen to
have noticed a boy who looked as if he belonged to me? They can't tell
me at the booking-office."
How glad Paul was now he had made no inquiries of the station-master!
"No," said the latter, "I can't say I have, sir, but some of my men may
have come across him. I'll inquire--here, Ing, I want you; this
gentleman here has lost one of his boys, have you seen him?"
"What sort of a young gentleman was he to look at?" Paul heard Tommy's
voice ask.
"A bright intelligent-looking boy," said the Doctor, "medium height,
about thirteen, with auburn hair."
"No, I ain't seen no intelligent boys with median 'eight," said Tommy
slowly, "not leastways, to speak to positive. What might he 'ave on,
now, besides his oburn 'air?"
"Black cloth jacket, with a wide collar," was the answer; "grey
trousers, and a cloth cap with a leather peak."
"Oh," said Tommy, "then I see 'im."
"When--where?"
"'Bout arf an 'our since."
"Do you know where he is now?"
"Well," said Tommy, to Paul's intense horror, for he was listening,
quaking, to every word of this conversation, which was held just outside
his cupboard door.
"I dessay I could give a guess if I give my mind to it."
"Out with it, Ing, now, if you know; no tricks," said the
station-master, who had apparently just turned to go away. "Excuse me,
sir, but I've some matters in there to see after."
When he had gone, the Doctor said rather heatedly, "Come, you're keeping
something from me, I _will_ have it out of you. If I find you have
deceived me, I'll write to the manager and get you sent about your
business--you'd better tell me the truth."
"You see," said Tommy, very slowly, and reluctantly, "that young gent o'
yourn _was_ a gent."
"I tried my very best to render him so," said the Doctor stiffly, "here
is the result--how did you discover he was one, pray?"
"'Cos he acted like a gent," said Tommy; "he took and give me a
'arf-suffering."
"Well, I'll give you another," said the Doctor, "if you can tell me
where he is."
"Thankee, sir, don't you be afraid--you're a gent right enough, too,
though you do 'appen to be a schoolmaster."
"Where is the unhappy boy?" interrupted the Doctor.
"Seems as if I was a roundin' on 'im, like, don't it a'most, sir?" said
Tommy, with too evident symptoms of yielding in his voice. Paul shook so
in his terror that he knocked down a broom or two with a clatter which
froze his blood.
"Not at all," said the Doctor, "not at all, my good fellow;
you're--ahem--advancing the cause of moral order."
"Oh, ah," said Tommy, obviously open to conviction. "Well, if I'm a
doin' all that, I can't go fur wrong, can I? And arter all, we mayn't
like schools or schoolmasters, not over above, but we can't get on
without 'em, I s'pose. But, look ye here, sir--if I goes and tells you
where you can get hold of this here boy, you won't go and wallop him
now, will ye?"
"I can make no bargains," said the Doctor; "I shall act on my own
discretion."
"That's it," said Tommy, unaccountably relieved, "spoke like a merciful
Christian gen'leman; if you don't go actin' on nothing more nor your
discretion, you can't hurt him much, I take it. Well then, since you've
spoke out fair, I don't mind putting you on his track like."
If the door of the cupboard had not been locked, Paul would undoubtedly
have burst out and yielded himself up, to escape the humiliation of
being sold like this by a mercenary and treacherous porter. As it was,
he had to wait till the inevitable words should be spoken.
"Well, you see," went on Tommy, very slowly, as if struggling with the
remnants of a conscience, "it was like this here--he comes up to me, and
says--your young gen'leman, I mean--says he, 'Porter, I wants to 'ide,
I've run away.' And I says to him, says I, 'It's no use your 'anging
about 'ere,' I says, ''cause, if you do, your guv'nor (meanin' no
offence to you, sir) 'll be comin' up and ketchin' of you on the 'op.'
'Right you are, porter,' says he to me, 'what do you advise?' he says.
'Well,' I says, 'I don't know as I'm right in givin' you no advice at
all, havin' run away from them as has the care on you,' I says; 'but if
_I_ was a young gen'leman as didn't want to be ketched, I should just
walk on to Dufferton; it ain't on'y three mile or so, and you'll 'ave
time for to do it before the up-train comes along there.' 'Thankee,
porter,' he says, 'I'll do that,' and away he bolts, and for anything I
know, he's 'arf way there by this time."
"A fly!" shouted the Doctor excitedly, when Tommy had come to the end of
his veracious account. "I'll catch the young rascal now--who has a good
horse? Davis, I'll take you. Five shillings if you reach Dufferton
before the up-train. Take the----"
The rest was lost in the banging of the fly door and the rumble of
wheels; the terrible man had been got safely off on a wrong scent, and
Paul fell back amongst the lumber in his closet, faint with the suspense
and relief.
Presently he heard Tommy's chuckling whisper through the keyhole: "Are
you all right in there, sir? he's safe enough now--orf on a pretty
dance. You didn't think I was goin' to tell on ye, did ye now? I ain't
quite sech a cur as that comes to, particular when a young gent saves me
from the 'orrors, and gives me a 'arf-suffering. I'll see you through,
you make yourself easy about that."
Half an hour went slowly by for Mr. Bultitude in his darkness and
solitude. The platform gradually filled, as he could tell by the tread
of feet, the voices, and the scent of cigars, and at last, welcome
sound, he heard the station bell ringing for the up-train.
It ran in the next minute, shaking the cupboard in which Paul crouched,
till the brushes rattled. There was the usual blind hurry and confusion
outside as it stopped. Paul waited impatiently inside. The time passed,
and still no one came to let him out. He began to grow alarmed. Could
Tommy have forgotten him? Had he been sent away by some evil chance at
the critical moment? Two or three times his excited fancy heard the
fatal whistle sound for departure. Would he be left behind after all?
But the next instant the door was noiselessly unlocked. "Couldn't do it
afore," said honest Tommy. "Our guv'nor would have seen me. Now's your
time. Here's a empty first-class coach I've kept for ye. In with you
now."
He hoisted Paul up the high footboard to an empty compartment, and shut
the door, leaving him to sink down on the luxurious cushions in
speechless and measureless content. But Tommy had hardly done so before
he reappeared and looked in. "I say," he suggested, "if I was you, I'd
get under the seat before you gets to Dufferton, otherways your
guv'nor'll be spottin' you. I'll lock you in."
"I'll get under now; some one might see me here," said Paul; and, too
anxious for safety to thank his preserver, he crawled under the low,
blue-cushioned seat, which left just room enough for him to lie there in
a very cramped and uncomfortable position. Still he need not stay there
after the train had once started, except for five minutes or so at
Dufferton.
Unfortunately he had not been long under the seat before he heard two
loud imperious voices just outside the carriage door.
"Porter! guard! Hi, somebody! open this door, will you; it's locked."
"This way, sir," he heard Tommy's voice say outside. "Plenty of room
higher up."
"I don't want to go higher up. I'll go here. Just open it at once, I
tell you."
The door was opened reluctantly, and two middle-aged men came in.
"Always take the middle carriage of a train," said the first. "Safest in
any accident, y'know. Never heard of a middle carriage of a train
getting smashed up, to speak of."
The other sat heavily down just over Paul, with a comfortable grunt, and
the train started, Paul feeling naturally annoyed by this intrusion, as
it compelled him to remain in seclusion for the whole of the journey.
"Still," he thought, "it is lucky that I had time to get under here
before they came in; it would have seemed odd if I had done it
afterwards." And he resigned himself to listen to the conversation which
followed.
"What was it we were talking about just now?" began the first. "Let me
see. Ah! I remember. Yes; it was a very painful thing--very, indeed, I
assure you."
There is a certain peculiar and uncomfortable suspicion that attacks
most of us at times, which cannot fairly be set down wholly to
self-consciousness or an exaggerated idea of our own importance. I mean
the suspicion that a partly-heard conversation must have ourselves for
its subject. More often than not, of course, it proves utterly
unfounded, but once in a way, like most presentiments, it finds itself
unpleasantly fulfilled.
Mr. Bultitude, though he failed to recognise either of the voices, was
somehow persuaded that the conversation had something to do with
himself, and listened with eager attention.
"Yes," the speaker continued; "he was never, according to what I hear, a
man of any extraordinary capacity, but he was always spoken of as a man
of standing in the City, doing a safe business, not a risky one, and so
on, you know. So, of course, his manner, when I called, shocked me all
the more."
"Ah!" said the other. "Was he violent or insulting, then?"
"No, no! I can only describe his conduct as eccentric--what one might
call reprehensibly eccentric and extravagant. I didn't call exactly in
the way of business, but about a poor young fellow in my house, who is,
I fear, rather far gone in consumption, and, knowing he was a Life
Governor, y'know, I thought he might give me a letter for the hospital.
Well, when I got up to Mincing Lane----"
Paul started. It was as he had feared, then; they _were_ speaking of
him!
"When I got there, I sent in my card with a message that, if he was
engaged or anything, I would take the liberty of calling at his private
house, and so on. But they said he would see me. The clerk who showed me
in said: 'You'll find him a good deal changed, if you knew him, sir.
We're very uneasy about him here,' which prepared me for something out
of the common. Well, I went into a sort of inner room, and there he was,
in his shirt-sleeves, busy over some abomination he was cooking at the
stove, with the office-boy helping him! I never was so taken aback in my
life. I said something about calling another time, but Bultitude----"
Paul groaned. The blow had fallen. Well, it was better to be prepared
and know the worst.
"Bultitude says, just like a great awkward schoolboy, y'know, 'What's
your name? How d'ye do? Have some hardbake, it's just done?' Fancy
finding a man in his position cooking toffee in the middle of the day,
and offering it to a perfect stranger!"
"Softening of the brain--must be," said the other.
"I fear so. Well, he asked what I wanted, and I told him, and he
actually said he never did any business now, except sign his name where
his clerks told him. He'd worked hard all his life, he said, and he was
tired of it. Business was, I understood him to say, 'all rot!'"
"Then he wouldn't promise me votes or give me a letter or anything,
without consulting his head clerk; he seemed to know nothing whatever
about it himself, and when that was over, he asked me a quantity of
frivolous questions which appeared to have a sort of catch in them, as
far as I could gather, and he was exceedingly angry when I wouldn't
humour him."
"What kind of questions?"
"Well, really I hardly know. I believe he wanted to know whether I would
rather be a bigger fool than I looked or look a bigger fool than I was,
and he pressed me quite earnestly to repeat some foolishness after him,
about 'being a gold key,' when he said 'he was a gold lock,' I was very
glad to get away from him, it was so distressing."
"They tell me he has begun to speculate, too, lately," said the other.
"You see his name about in some very queer things. It's a pitiful affair
altogether."
Paul writhed under his seat with shame. How could he, even if he
succeeded in ousting Dick and getting back his old self, how could he
ever hold up his head again after this?
Why, Dick must be mad. Even a schoolboy would have had more caution when
so much depended on it. But none would suspect the real cause of the
change. These horrible tales were no doubt being circulated everywhere!
The conversation fell back into a less personal channel again after
this; they talked of "risks," of some one who had only been "writing" a
year and was doing seven thousand a week, of losses they had been "on,"
and of the uselessness of "writing five hundred on everything," and
while at this point the train slackened and stopped--they had reached
Dufferton.
There was an opening of doors all along the train, and sounds of some
inquiry and answer at each. The voices became audible at length, and, as
he had expected, Paul found that the Doctor, not having discovered him
on the platform, was making a systematic search of the train, evidently
believing that he had managed to slip in somewhere unobserved.
It was a horrible moment when the door of his compartment was flung open
and a stream of ice-cold air rushed under the blue cloth which,
fortunately for Paul, hung down almost to the floor.
Some one held a lantern up outside, and by its rays Paul saw from behind
the hanging the upper half of Dr. Grimstone appear, very pale and
polite, at the doorway. He remained there for some moments without
speaking, carefully examining every corner of the compartment.
The two men on the seats drew their wraps about them and shivered, until
at length one said rather testily--"Get in, sir; kindly get in if you're
coming on, please. This draught is most unpleasant!"
"I do not propose to travel by this train, sir," said the Doctor; "but,
as a person entrusted with the care of youth, permit me to inquire
whether you have seen (or, it may be assisted to conceal) a small boy of
intelligent appearance----"
"Why should we conceal small boys of intelligent appearance about us,
pray?" demanded the man who had described his visit to Mincing Lane.
"And may we ask you to shut that door, and make any communications you
wish to make through the window, or else come in and sit down?"
"That's not an answer to my question, sir," retorted the Doctor. "I
notice you carefully decline to say whether you have seen a boy. I
consider your manner suspicious, sir; and I shall insist on searching
this carriage through and through till I find that boy!"
Mr. Bultitude rolled himself up close against the partition at these
awful words.
"Guard, guard!" shouted the first gentleman. "Come here. Here's a
violent person who will search this carriage for something he has lost.
I won't be inconvenienced in this way without any reason whatever! He
says we're hiding a boy in here!"
"Guard!" said the Doctor, quite as angrily, "I insist upon looking under
these seats before you start the train. I've looked through every other
carriage and he must be in here. Gentlemen, let me pass, I'll get him if
I have to travel in this compartment to town with you!"
"For peace and quietness sake, gentlemen," said the guard, "let him look
round, just to ease his mind. Lend me your stick a minute, sir, please.
I'll turn him out if he's anywhere about this here compartment!"
And with this he pulled Dr. Grimstone down from the footboard and
mounted it himself; after which he began to rummage about under the
seats with the Doctor's heavy stick.
Every lunge found out some tender part in Mr. Bultitude's person and
caused him exquisite torture; but he clenched his teeth hard to prevent
a sound, while he thought each fresh dig must betray his whereabouts.
"There," said the guard at last; "there really ain't no one there, sir,
you see. I've felt everywhere and---- Hello, I certainly did feel
something just then, gentlemen!" he added, in an undertone, after a
lunge which took all the breath out of Paul's body. All was lost now!
"You touch that again with that confounded stick if you dare!" said one
of the passengers. "That's a parcel of mine. I won't have you poking
holes through it in that way. Don't tell that lunatic behind you, he'll
be wanting it opened to see if his boy's inside! Now perhaps you'll let
us alone!"
"Well, sir," said the guard at last to the Doctor, as he withdrew, "he
ain't in there. There's nothing under any of the seats. Your boy'll be
comin' on by the next train, most likely--the 8.40. We're all behind.
Right!"
"Good night, sir," said the first passenger as he leant out of the
window, to the baffled schoolmaster on the platform. "You've put us to
all this inconvenience for nothing, and in the most offensive way too. I
hope you won't find your boy till you're in a better temper, for his
sake."
"If I had you out on this platform, sir," shouted the angry Doctor, "I'd
horsewhip you for that insult. I believe the boy's there and you know
it. I----"
But the train swept off and, to Paul's joy and thankfulness, soon left
the Doctor, gesticulating and threatening, miles behind it.
"What a violent fellow for a schoolmaster, eh?" said one of Paul's
companions, when they were fairly off again. "I wasn't going to have him
turning the cushions inside out here; we shouldn't have settled down
again before we got in!"
"No; and if the guard hasn't, as it is, injured that Indian shawl in my
parcel, I shall be---- Why, bless my soul, that parcel's not under the
seat after all! It's up in the rack. I remember putting it there now."
"The guard must have fancied he felt something; and yet---- Look here,
Goldicutt; just feel under here with your feet. It certainly does seem
as if something soft was--eh?"
Mr. Goldicutt accordingly explored Paul's ribs with his boot for some
moments, which was very painful.
"Upon my word," he said at last, "it really does seem very like it. It's
not hard enough for a bag or a hat-box. It yields distinctly when you
kick it. Can you fetch it out with your umbrella, do you think? Shall we
tell the guard at the next----? Lord, it's coming out of its own accord.
It's a dog! No, my stars--it's the boy, after all!"
For Paul, alarmed at the suggestion about the guard, once more felt
inclined to risk the worst and reveal himself. Begrimed with coal,
smeared with whitewash, and covered with dust and flue, he crawled
slowly out and gazed imploringly up at his fellow-passengers.
After the first shock of surprise they lay back in their seats and
laughed till they cried.
"Why, you young rascal!" they said, when they recovered breath, "you
don't mean to say you've been under there the whole time?"
"I have indeed," said Paul. "I--I didn't like to come out before."
"And are you the boy all this fuss was about? Yes? And we kept the
schoolmaster off without knowing it! Why, this is splendid, capital!
You're something like a boy, you little dog, you! This is the best joke
I've heard for many a day!"
"I hope," said Paul, "I haven't inconvenienced you. I could not help it,
really."
"Inconvenienced us? Gad, your schoolmaster came very near
inconveniencing us and you too. But there, he won't trouble any of us
now. To think of our swearing by all our gods there was no boy in here,
and vowing he shouldn't come in, while you were lying down there under
the seat all the time! Why, it's lovely! The boy's got pluck and manners
too. Shake hands, young gentleman, you owe us no apologies. I haven't
had such a laugh for many a day!"
"Then you--you won't give me up?" faltered poor Paul.
"Well," said the one who was called Goldicutt, and who was a jovial old
gentleman with a pink face and white whiskers, "we're not exactly going
to take the trouble of getting out at the next station, and bringing
you back to Dufferton, just to oblige that hot-tempered master of yours,
you know; he hasn't been so particularly civil as to deserve that."
"But if he were to telegraph and get some one to stop me at St.
Pancras?" said Paul nervously.
"Ah, he might do that, to be sure--sharp boy this--well, as we've gone
so far, I suppose we must go through with the business now and smuggle
the young scamp past the detectives, eh, Travers?"
The younger man addressed assented readily enough, for the Doctor had
been so unfortunate as to prejudice them both from the first by his
unjustifiable suspicions, and it is to be feared they had no scruples in
helping to outwit him.