Chapter 17. My Travelling Companion

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. MY TRAVELLING COMPANION

Somehow or another I could not get to that trap all that day, and night came, and still I could not get to it.

I tried, but unless I had wanted to draw people's attention to the fact that I had something there of great interest, I could not go.

Even at leaving time it was as bad, and I found myself in the position that I must either tell one of my uncles what I had done, or leave the trap to take its chance.

I chose the latter plan, and calling myself weak coward, went home, arguing to myself that no one would go in the spot where I had placed the trap, but some miscreant, and that it would serve him right.

To my utter astonishment, directly after tea Uncle Dick turned to me.

"Cob," he said; "we have a special letter to send to Canonbury to your father, and a more particular one to bring back in answer, so we have decided that you shall take it up. You can have three or four days' holiday, and it will be a pleasant change. Your mother and father will be delighted to see you, and, of course, you will be glad to see them."

"But when should I have to go?" I said.

"To-night by the last train. Quarter to eleven--You'll get to London about three in the morning. They expect one of us, so you will find them up."

"But--"

"Don't you want to go?" said Uncle Jack severely.

"Yes," I said; "but--"

"But me no buts, as the man said in the old play. There, get ready, boy, and come back to us as soon as you can. Don't make the worst of our troubles here, Cob."

"No, no," said Uncle Dick, "because we are getting on famously as soon as we can manage the men."

"And that we are going to do," said Uncle Bob. "I say I wish I were coming with you."

"Do, then," I cried.

"Get out, you young tempter! No," said Uncle Bob. "Go and take your pleasure, and have pity upon the three poor fellows who are toiling here."

I was obliged to go, of course, but I must tell them about the trap first.

Tell _them_! No, I could not tell Uncle Dick or Uncle Jack. I was afraid that they would be angry with me, so I resolved to speak to Uncle Bob before I went--to take him fully into my confidence, and ask him to move the trap and put it safely away.

It is so easy to make plans--so hard to carry them out.

All through that evening I could not once get a chance to speak to Uncle Bob alone; and time went so fast that we were on our way to the station, and still I had not spoken. There was only the chance left--on the platform.

"Don't look so solid about it, Cob," said Uncle Jack. "They'll be delighted to see you, boy, and it will be a pleasant trip. But we want you back."

"I should think we do," said Uncle Dick, laying his great hand on my shoulder and giving me an affectionate grip.

"Yes, we couldn't get on without our first lieutenant, Philosopher Cob," said Uncle Bob.

I tried to look bright and cheerful; but that trap had not got me by the leg--it seemed to be round my neck and to choke me from speaking.

What was I to do? I could not get a chance. I dare not go away and leave that trap there without speaking, and already there was the distant rumble of the coming train. In a few minutes I should be on my way to London; and at last in despair I got close to Uncle Bob to speak, but in vain--I was put off.

In came the train, drawing up to the side of the platform, and Uncle Bob ran off to find a comfortable compartment for me, looking after me as kindly as if I had been a woman.

"Oh," I thought, "if he would but have stayed!"

"Good-bye, my lad!" said Uncle Dick. "Take care of yourself, Cob, and of the packet," whispered Uncle Jack.

I was about to slap my breast and say, "All right here!" but he caught my hand and held it down.

"Don't," he said in a low half-angry voice. "Discretion, boy. If you have something valuable about you, don't show people where it is."

I saw the wisdom of the rebuke and shook hands. "I'll try and be wiser," I whispered; "trust me." He nodded, and this made me forget the trap for the moment. But Uncle Bob grasped my hand and brought it back.

"Stand away, please," shouted the guard; but Uncle Bob held on by my hand as the train moved.

"Take care of yourself, lad. Call a cab the moment you reach the platform if your father is not there."

"Yes," I said, reaching over a fellow-passenger to speak. "Uncle Bob," I added quickly, "big trap in the corner of the yard; take it up at once--to-night."

"Yes, yes," he said as he ran along the platform. "I'll see to it. Good-bye!"

We were off and he was waving his hand to me, and I saw him for a few moments, and then all was indistinct beneath the station lamps, and we were gliding on, with the glare and smoke and glow of the busy town lighting up the sky.

It had all come to me so suddenly that I could hardly believe I was speeding away back to London; but once more comfortable in my mind with the promise that Uncle Bob had made to take up the trap, I sat back in the comfortable corner seat thinking of seeing my father and mother again, and of what a series of adventures I should have to relate.

Then I had a look round at my fellow-passengers, of whom there were three--a stout old gentleman and a young lady who seemed to be his daughter, and a dark-eyed keen-looking man who was seated opposite to me, and who held a newspaper in his hand and had a couple of books with him.

"I'd offer to lend you one," he said, touching his books and smiling; "but you couldn't read--I can't. Horrible lights."

Just then a heavy snore from the old gentleman made the young lady lean over to him and touch him, waking him up with a start.

The keen-looking man opposite to me raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly, shading his face from the other occupants with his newspaper.

Three or four times over the old gentleman dropped asleep and had to be roused up, and my fellow-passenger smiled good-humouredly and said:

"Might as well have let him sleep."

This was in a whisper, and he made two or three remarks to me.

He seemed very much disposed to be friendly and pointed out the lights of a distant town or two.

"Got in at Arrowfield, didn't you?" he said at last.

I replied that I did; and it was on the tip of my tongue to say, "So did you," but I did not.

"I'm going on to London," he said. "Nasty time to get in--three in the morning. I hate it. No one about. Night cabs and milk carts, police and market wagons. People at the hotel always sleepy. Ah! Here we are at Westernbow."

For the train was stopping, and when it did draw up at the platform the old gentleman was roused up by the young lady, and they got out and left us alone.

"Ha! Ha!" said my companion, "that's better. Give us room to stretch our legs. Do you bet?"

"No," I said, "never."

"Good, lad! Don't; very bad habit. I do; I've lots of bad habits. But I was going to say, I'll bet you an even half-crown that we don't have another passenger from here to London."

"I hope we shall not," I said as I thought of a nap on the seat.

"So do I, sir--so do I," he said, nodding his head quickly. "I vote we lie down and make the best of it--by and by. Have a cigar first?"

"Thank you; I don't smoke," I said.

"I do. Will you excuse me if I have a cigar? Not a smoking carriage-- more comfortable."

I assured him that I should not mind; and he took out a cigar, lit it, and began to smoke.

"Better have one," he said. "Mild as mild. They won't hurt you."

I thanked him again and declined, sitting back and watching him as he smoked on seeming to enjoy his cigar, and made a remark or two about the beautiful night and the stars as the train dashed on.

After a time he took out a flask, slipped off the plated cup at the bottom, and unscrewed the top, pouring out afterward some clear-looking liquid.

"Have a drink?" he said, offering me the flask-cup; but I shook my head.

"No, thank you," I said; and somehow I began thinking of the water I had drunk at the works, and which had made me so terribly sleepy.

I don't know how it was, but I did think about that, and it was in my mind as he said laughingly:

"What! Not drink a little drop of mild stuff like that? Well, you are a fellow! Why it's like milk."

He seemed to toss it off.

"Better have a drop," he said.

I declined.

"Nonsense! Do," he cried. "Do you good. Come, have a drink."

He grew more persistent, but the more persistent he was the more I shrank from the cup he held in his hand; and at last I felt sorry, for he seemed so kind that it was ungracious of me to refuse him so simple a request.

"Oh, very well!" he said, "just as you like. There will be the more for me."

He laughed, nodded, and drank the contents of the cup before putting the screw-top on the flask, thrusting it in his breast-pocket, and then making a cushion of his railway wrapper he lay at full length upon the cushion, and seemed to compose himself to sleep.

It was such a good example that, after a few minutes' silence, I did the same, and lay with my eyes half-closed, listening to the dull rattle of the train, and thinking of the works at Arrowfield, and what a good job it was that I spoke to Uncle Bob about the trap.

Then I hoped he would not be incautious and hurt himself in letting off the spring.

I looked across at my fellow-traveller, who seemed to be sleeping soundly, and the sight of his closed eyes made mine heavy, and no wonder, for every other night I had been on guard at the works, and that seemed to shorten my allowance of sleep to a terrible degree.

I knew there could be no mistake, for I was going as far as the train went, and the guard would be sure to wake me up if I was fast asleep.

And how satisfactory it seemed to be lying there on the soft cushions instead of walking about the works and the yard the previous night. I was growing more and more sleepy, the motion of the train serving to lull me; and then, all at once, I was wide-awake staring at the bubble of glass that formed the lamp in the ceiling, and wondering where I was.

I recollected directly and glanced at my fellow-traveller, to see that he was a little uneasy, one of his legs being off the seat; but he was breathing heavily, and evidently fast asleep.

I lay watching him for a few minutes, and then the sweet restful feeling mastered me again, and I went off fast asleep. One moment there was the compartment with its cushions and lamp with the rush and sway of the carriage that made me think it must be something like this on board ship; the next I was back at the works keeping watch and wondering whether either of the men would come and make any attempt upon the place.

I don't know how long I had been asleep, but all at once, without moving, I was wide-awake with my eyes closed, fully realising that I had a valuable packet of some kind in my breast-pocket, and that my fellow-traveller was softly unbuttoning my overcoat so as to get it out.

I lay perfectly still for a moment or two, and then leaped up and bounded to the other side of the carriage.

"There, it is of no use," said my fellow-traveller; "pull that letter out of your pocket and give it to me quietly or--"

He said no more, but took a pistol out of his breast, while I shrank up against the farther door, the window of which was open, and stared at him aghast.

"Do you hear?" he said fiercely. "Come; no nonsense! I want that letter. There, I don't want to frighten you, boy. Come and sit down; I sha'n't hurt you."

The train was flying along at forty miles an hour at least, and this man knew that the packet I had was valuable. How he knew it I could not tell, but he must have found out at Arrowfield. He was going to take it from me, and if he got it what was he going to do?

I thought it all over as if in a flash.

He was going to steal the packet, and he would know that I should complain at the first station we reached; and he would prevent this, I felt sure. But how?

There was only one way. He had threatened me with a pistol, but I did not think he would use that. No; there was only one way, and it was this--he would rob me and throw me out of the train.

My legs shook under me as I thought this, and the light in the carriage seemed to be dancing up and down, as I put my right arm out of the window and hung to the side to keep myself up.

All this was a matter of moments, and it seemed to be directly after my fellow-passenger had spoken first that he roared out, "Do you hear, sir? Come here!"

I did not move, and he made a dash at me, but, as he did, my right hand rested on the fastening of the door outside, turned the handle, and clinging to it, I swung out into the rushing wind, turning half round as the door banged heavily back, when, by an instinctive motion, my left hand caught at anything to save me from falling, grasped the bar that ran along between door and door, and the next moment, how I know not, I was clinging to this bar with my feet on the foot-board, and my eyes strained back at the open door, out of which my fellow-passenger leaned.

"You young idiot, come back!" he roared; but the effect of his words was to make me shrink farther away, catching at the handle of the next door, and then reaching on to the next bar, so that I was now several feet away.

The wind seemed as if it would tear me from the foot-board, and I was obliged to keep my face away to breathe; but I clung to the bar tightly, and watched the fierce face that was thrust out of the door I had left.

"Am I to come after you?" he roared. "Come back!"

My answer was to creep past another door, to find to my horror that this was the last, and that there was a great gap between me and the next carriage.

What was I to do? Jump, with the train dashing along at such a rate that it seemed as if I must be shaken down or torn off by the wind.

I stared back horror-stricken and then uttered a cry of fear, as the window I had just passed was thrown open and a man leaned out.

"I'll swear I heard someone shout," he said to a travelling companion, and he looked back along the train. "Yes," he continued, "there's someone three compartments back looking out. Oh, he's gone in now. Wonder what it was!"

Just then he turned his head in my direction, and saw my white face.

I saw him start as I clung there just a little way below him to his right, and within easy reach, and, for I should think a minute, we stared hard at each other.

Then he spoke in a quiet matter-of-fact way.

"Don't be scared, my lad," he said; "it's alright. I can take hold of you tightly. Hold fast till I get you by the arms. That's it; now loose your right hand and take hold of the door; here pass it in. That's the way; edge along. I've got you tight. Come along; now the other hand in. That's the way."

I obeyed him, for he seemed to force me to by his firm way, but the thought came over me, "Suppose he is that man's companion." But even if he had been, I was too much unnerved to do anything but what he bade me, so I passed one hand on to the window-frame of the door, then edged along and stood holding on with the other hand, for he had me as if his grasp was a vice, and then his hands glided down to my waist. He gripped me by my clothes and flesh, and before I could realise it he had dragged me right in through the window and placed me on the seat.

Then dragging up the window he sank back opposite to me and cried to a gentleman standing in the compartment:

"Give me a drop of brandy, Jem, or I shall faint!"

I crouched back there, quivering and unable to speak. I was so unnerved; but I saw the other gentleman hand a flask to the bluff-looking man who had saved me, and I saw him take a hearty draught and draw long breath, after which he turned to me.

"You young scoundrel!" he cried; "how dare you give me such a fright!"

I tried to speak, but the words would not come. I was choking, and I believe for a minute I literally sobbed.

"There, there, my lad," said the other kindly, "You're all right. Don't speak to him like that now, Jordan. The boy's had a horrible scare."

"Scare!" said the big bluff man; "and so have I. Why, my heart was in my mouth. I wouldn't go through it again for a hundred pounds. How did you come there, sir?"

"Let him be for a few minutes," said the other gently. "He'll come round directly, and tell us."

I gave him a grateful look and held out my wet hand, which he took and held in his.

"The boy has had a terrible shock," he said. "He'll tell us soon. Don't hurry, my lad. There, be calm."

I clung to his hand, for he seemed to steady me, my hand jerking and twitching, and a curious sensation of horror that I had never felt before seeming to be upon me; but by degrees this passed off, the more quickly that the two gentlemen went on talking as if I were not there.

"I'm so much obliged," I said at last, and the big bluff man laughed.

"Don't name it," he said, nodding good-humouredly. "Five guineas is my fee."

I shivered.

"And my friend here, Doctor Brown, will have a bigger one for his advice."

"He's joking you, my lad," said the other gentleman smiling. "I see you are not hurt."

"No, sir," I said; "I--"

The trembling came over me again, and I could not speak for a minute or two, but sat gazing helplessly from one to the other.

"Give him a drop of brandy," said the big bluff man.

"No, let him be for a few minutes; he's mastering it," was the reply.

This did me good, and making an effort I said quickly:

"A man in the carriage tried to rob me, and I got on to the foot-board and came along here."

"Then you did what I dare not have done," said the one who dragged me in. "But a pretty state of affairs this. On the railway, and no means of communicating."

"But there are means."

"Tchah! How was the poor lad to make use of them? Well, we shall have the scoundrel, unless he gets out of the train and jumps for it. We must look out when we stop for taking the tickets. We shall not halt before."

By degrees I grew quite composed, and told them all.

"Yes," said my big friend, "it was very brave of you; but I think I should have parted with all I had sooner than have run such a risk."

"If it had been your own," said the other gentleman. "In this case it seems to me the boy would have been robbed, and probably thrown out afterwards upon the line. I think you did quite right, my lad, but I should not recommend the practice to anyone else."

They chatted to me pleasantly enough till the train began at last to slacken speed preparatory to stopping for the tickets to be taken, and at the first symptom of this my two new friends jumped up and let down the windows, each leaning out so as to command a view of the back of the train.

I should have liked to look back as well, but that was impossible, so I had to be content to sit and listen; but I was not kept long in suspense, for all at once the quieter and more gentlemanly of my companions exclaimed:

"I thought as much. He has just jumped off, and run down the embankment. There he goes!"

I ran to the side, and caught a glimpse of a figure melting away into the darkness. Then it was gone.

"There goes all chance of punishing the scoundrel," said the big bluff man, turning to me and smiling good-temperedly. "I should have liked to catch him, but I couldn't afford to risk my neck in your service, young man."

I thanked him as well as I could, and made up my mind that if my father was waiting on the platform he should make a more satisfactory recognition of the services that had been performed.

This did not, however, prove so easy as I had hoped, for in the confusion of trying to bring them together when I found my father waiting, I reached the spot where I had left my travelling-companions just in time to see them drive off in a cab. _

Read next: Chapter 18. Against The Law

Read previous: Chapter 16. Something For Me

Table of content of Patience Wins; or, War in the Works


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book