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diff --git a/old/34884-h.htm.2021-01-25 b/old/34884-h.htm.2021-01-25 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..22d7051 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/34884-h.htm.2021-01-25 @@ -0,0 +1,4763 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" name="linkgenerator" /> + <title> + Tales of the Trains, by Charles James Lever + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales Of The Trains, by Charles James Lever + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Tales Of The Trains + Being Some Chapters of Railroad Romance by Tilbury Tramp, + Queen's Messenger + +Author: Charles James Lever + +Illustrator: Phiz. + +Release Date: January 8, 2011 [EBook #34884] +Last Updated: September 4, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE TRAINS *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + +<p> +<br /><br /> +</p> +<h1> +TALES OF THE TRAINS +</h1> +<p> +<br /> +</p> +<h2> +By Charles James Lever +</h2> +<h3> +With Illustrations By Phiz. +</h3> +<p> +<br /> +</p> +<h3> +Boston: Little, Brown, And Company. +</h3> +<h4> +1907. +</h4> +<p> +<br /> <br /> +</p> +<hr /> +<p> +<br /> <br /> <br /> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img alt="titlepage (27K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> +</div> +<p> +<br /> <br /> <br /> +</p> +<hr /> +<p> +<br /> <br /> +</p> +<h1> +TALES OF THE TRAINS: +</h1> +<h2> +BEING SOME CHAPTERS OF RAILROAD ROMANCE +</h2> +<h3> +By Tilbury Tramp, Queen’s Messenger. +</h3> +<p> +<br /><br /> +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Bang, bang, bang! +Shake, shiver, and throb; +The sound of our feet Is the piston’s beat, +And the opening valve our sob! +</pre> +<p> +<br /> <br /> +</p> +<hr /> +<p> +<br /> <br /> +</p> +<h2> +Contents +</h2> +<table summary=""> +<tr> +<td> +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION. </a> +</p> +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE COUPÉ OF THE NORTH MIDLAND </a> +</p> +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE WHITE LACE BONNET </a> +</p> +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#link2H_4_0004"> FAST ASLEEP AND WIDE AWAKE </a> +</p> +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE EARLY TRAIN TO VERSAILLES. </a> +</p> +<p class="toc"> +<a href="#link2H_4_0006"> THE TUNNEL OF TRÜBAU. </a> +</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<p> +<br /> <br /> +</p> +<hr /> +<p> +<br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> +<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> +</p> +<div style="height: 4em;"> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> +<h2> +INTRODUCTION. +</h2> +<p> +Let no enthusiast of the pastoral or romantic school, no fair reader with +eyes “deeply, darkly, beautifully blue,” sneer at the title of my paper. I +have written it after much and mature meditation. +</p> +<p> +It would be absurd to deny that the great and material changes which our +progress in civilization and the arts effect, should not impress +literature as well as manners; that the tone of our thoughts, as much as +the temper of our actions, should not sympathize with the giant strides of +inventive genius. We have but to look abroad, and confess the fact. The +facilities of travel which our day confers, have given a new and a +different impulse to the human mind; the man is no longer deemed a wonder +who has journeyed some hundred miles from home,—the miracle will +soon be he who has not been everywhere. +</p> +<p> +To persist, therefore, in dwelling on the same features, the same +fortunes, and the same characters of mankind, while all around us is +undergoing a great and a formidable revolution, appears to me as insane an +effort as though we should try to preserve our equilibrium during the +shock of an earthquake. +</p> +<p> +The stage lost much of its fascination when, by the diffusion of +literature, men could read at home what once they were obliged to go +abroad to see. Historical novels, in the same way, failed to produce the +same excitement, as the readers became more conversant with the passages +of history which suggested them. The battle-and-murder school, the +raw-head-and-bloody-bones literature, pales before the commonest coroner’s +inquest in the “Times;” and even Boz can scarce stand competition with the +<i>vie intime</i> of a union workhouse. What, then, is to be done? <i>Quæ +regio terræ</i> remains to be explored? Have we not ransacked every clime +and country,—from the Russian to the Red Man, from the domestic +habits of Sweden to the wild life of the Prairies? Have we not had kings +and kaisers, popes, cardinals, and ministers, to satiety? The land service +and the sea service have furnished their quota of scenes; and I am not +sure but that the revenue and coast-guard may have been pressed into the +service. Personalities have been a stock in trade to some, and coarse +satires on well-known characters of fashionable life have made the +reputation of others. +</p> +<p> +From the palace to the poorhouse, from the forum to the factory, all has +been searched and ransacked for a new view of life or a new picture of +manners. Some have even gone into the recesses of the earth, and +investigated the arcana of a coal-mine, in the hope of eliciting a +novelty. Yet, all this time, the great reformer has been left to +accomplish his operations without note or comment; and while thundering +along the earth or ploughing the sea with giant speed and giant power, men +have not endeavored to track his influence upon humanity, nor work out any +evidences of those strange changes he is effecting over the whole surface +of society. The steam-engine is not merely a power to turn the wheels of +mechanism,—it beats and throbs within the heart of a nation, and is +felt in every fibre and recognized in every sinew of civilized man. +</p> +<p> +How vain to tell us now of the lover’s bark skimming the midnight sea, or +speak of a felucca and its pirate crew stealing stealthily across the +waters! A suitor would come to seek his mistress in the Iron Duke, of +three hundred horse-power; and a smuggler would have no chance, if he had +not a smoking-galley, with Watt’s patent boilers! +</p> +<p> +What absurdity to speak of a runaway couple, in vain pursued by an angry +parent, on the road to Gretna Green! An express engine, with a stoker and +a driver, would make the deserted father overtake them in no time! +</p> +<p> +Instead of the characters of a story remaining stupidly in one place, the +novelist now can conduct his tale to the tune of thirty miles an hour, and +start his company in the first class of the Great Western. No difficulty +to preserve the unities! Here he journeys with bag and baggage, and can +bring twenty or more families along with him, if he like. Not limiting the +description of scenery to one place or spot, he whisks his reader through +a dozen counties in a chapter, and gives him a bird’s-eye glance of half +England as he goes; thus, how original the breaks which would arise from +an occasional halt, what an afflicting interruption to a love story, the +cry of the guard, “Coventry, Coventry, Coventry;” or, “Any gentleman, +Tring, Tring, Tring;” with the more agreeable interjection of “Tea or +coffee, sir?—one brandy and soda-water—‘Times,’ ‘Chronicle,’ +or ‘Globe.’” + </p> +<p> +How would the great realities of life flash upon the reader’s mind, and +how insensibly would he amalgamate fact with fiction! And, lastly, think, +reflect, what new catastrophe would open upon an author’s vision; for +while, to the gentler novelist, like Mrs. Gore, an eternal separation +might ensue from starting with the wrong train, the bloody-minded school +would revel in explosions and concussions, rent boilers, insane +luggage-trains, flattening the old gentlemen like buffers. Here is a vista +for imagination, here is scope for at least fifty years to come. I do not +wish to allude to the accessory consequences of this new literary school, +though I am certain music and the fine arts would both benefit by its +introduction; and one of the popular melodies of the day would be “We met; +‘t was in a tunnel.” I hope my literary brethren will appreciate the +candor and generosity with which I point out to them this new and +unclaimed spot in Parnassus. No petty jealousies, no miserable +self-interests, have weighed with me. I am willing to give them a share in +my discovered country, well aware that there is space and settlement for +us all,—locations for every fancy, allotments for every quality of +genius. For myself I reserve nothing; satisfied with the fame of a +Columbus, I can look forward to a glorious future, and endure all the +neglect and indifference of present ingratitude. Meanwhile, less with the +hope of amusing the reader than illustrating my theory, I shall jot down +some of my own experiences, and give them a short series of the “Romance +of a Railroad.” + </p> +<p> +But, ere I begin, let me make one explanation for the benefit of the +reader and myself. +</p> +<p> +The class of literature which I am now about to introduce to the public, +unhappily debars me from the employment of the habitual tone and the +ordinary aids to interest prescriptive right has conferred on the +novelist. I can neither commence with “It was late in the winter of 1754, +as three travellers,” etc., etc.; or, “The sun was setting” or, “The moon +was rising;” or, “The stars were twinkling;” or, “On the 15th Feb., 1573, +a figure, attired in the costume of northern Italy, was seen to blow his +nose;” or, in fact, is there a single limit to the mode in which I may +please to open my tale. My way lies in a country where there are no roads, +and there is no one to cry out, “Keep your own side of the way.” Now, +then, for— +</p> +<p> +<a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> +<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> +</p> +<div style="height: 4em;"> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> +<h2> +THE COUPÉ OF THE NORTH MIDLAND +</h2> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/550.jpg" width="100%" alt="550 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +“The English are a lord-loving people, there’s no doubt of it,” was the +reflection I could not help making to myself, on hearing the commentaries +pronounced by my fellow-travellers in the North Midland, on a passenger +who had just taken his departure from amongst us. He was a middle-aged +man, of very prepossessing appearance, with a slow, distinct, and somewhat +emphatic mode of speaking. He had joined freely and affably in the +conversation of the party, contributing his share in the observations made +upon the several topics discussed, and always expressing himself suitably +and to the purpose; and although these are gifts I am by no means +ungrateful enough to hold cheaply, yet neither was I prepared to hear such +an universal burst of panegyric as followed his exit. +</p> +<p> +“The most agreeable man, so affable, so unaffected.” “Always listened to +with such respect in the Upper House.” + </p> +<p> +“Splendid place, Treddleton,—eighteen hundred acres, they say, in +the demesne,—such a deer-park too.” “And what a collection of +Vandykes!” “The Duke has a very high opinion of his—” + </p> +<p> +“Income,—cannot be much under two hundred thousand, I should say.” + </p> +<p> +Such and such-like were the fragmentary comments upon one who, divested of +so many claims upon the respect and gratitude of his country, had merely +been pronounced a very well-bred and somewhat agreeable gentleman. To have +refused sympathy with a feeling so general would have been to argue myself +a member of the anti-corn law league, the repeal association, or some +similarly minded institution; so that I joined in the grand chorus around, +and manifested the happiness I experienced in common with the rest, that a +lord had travelled in our company, and neither asked us to sit on the +boiler nor on the top of the luggage, but actually spoke to us and +interchanged sentiments, as though we were even intended by Providence for +such communion. One little round-faced man with a smooth cheek, devoid of +beard, a. pair of twinkling gray eyes, and a light brown wig, did not, +however, contribute his suffrage to the measure thus triumphantly carried, +but sat with a very peculiar kind of simper on his mouth, and with his +head turned towards the window, as though to avoid observation. He, I say, +said nothing, but there was that in the expression of his features that +said, “I differ from you,” as palpably as though he had spoken it out in +words. +</p> +<p> +The theme once started was not soon dismissed; each seemed to vie with his +neighbor in his knowledge of the habits and opinions of the titled orders, +and a number of pleasant little pointless stories were told of the +nobility, which, if I could only remember and retail here, would show the +amiable feeling they entertain for the happiness of all the world, and how +glad they are when every one has enough to eat, and there is no “leader” + in the “Times” about the distress in the manufacturing districts. The +round-faced man eyed the speakers in turn, but never uttered a word; and +it was plain that he was falling very low in the barometer of public +opinion, from his incapacity to contribute a single noble anecdote, even +though the hero should be only a Lord Mayor, when suddenly he said,— +</p> +<p> +“There was rather a queer sort of thing happened to me the last time I +went the Nottingham circuit.” + </p> +<p> +“Oh, do you belong to that circuit?” said a thin-faced old man in +spectacles. “Do you know Fitzroy Kelly?” + </p> +<p> +“Is he in the hardware line? There was a chap of that name travelled for +Tingle and Crash; but he’s done up, I think. He forged a bill of exchange +in Manchester, and is travelling now in another line of business.” + </p> +<p> +“I mean the eminent lawyer, sir,—I know nothing of bagmen.” + </p> +<p> +“They’re bagmen too,” replied the other, with a little chuckling laugh, +“and pretty samples of honesty they hawk about with them, as I hear; but +no offence, gentlemen,—I’m a CG. myself.” + </p> +<p> +“A what?” said three or four together. +</p> +<p> +“A commercial gentleman, in the tape, bobbin, and twist line, for Rundle, +Trundle, and Winningspin’s house, one of the oldest in the trade.” + </p> +<p> +Here was a tumble down with a vengeance,—from the noble Earl of +Heaven knows what and where, Knight of the Garter, Grand Cross of the +Bath, Knight of St. Patrick, to a mere C. G.,—a commercial +gentleman, travelling in the tape, bobbin, and twist line for the firm of +Rundle, Trundle, and Winningspin, of Leeds. The operation of steam +condensing, by letting in a stream of cold water, was the only simile I +can find for the sudden revulsion; and as many plethoric sobs, shrugs, and +grunts issued from the party as though they represented an engine under +like circumstances. All the aristocratic associations were put to flight +at once; it seemed profane to remember the Peerage in such company; and a +general silence ensued, each turning from time to time an angry look +towards the little bagman, whose <i>mal-à-propos</i> speech had routed +their illustrious allusions. +</p> +<p> +Somewhat tired of the stiff and uncomfortable calm that succeeded, I +ventured in a very meek and insinuating tone to remind the little man of +the reminiscence he had already begun, when interrupted by the unlucky +question as to his circuit. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! it ain’t much of a story,” said he. “I should n’t wonder if the same +kind of thing happens often,—mayhap, too, the gentlemen would not +like to hear it, though they might, after all, for there’s a Duke in it.” + </p> +<p> +There was that in the easy simplicity with which he said these words, +vouching for his good temper, which propitiated at once the feelings of +the others; and after a few half-expressed apologies for having already +interrupted him, they begged he would kindly relate the incident to which +he alluded. +</p> +<p> +“It is about four years since,” said he. “I was then in the printed-calico +way for a house in Nottingham; business was not very good, my commission +nothing to boast of—cotton looking down—nothing lively but +quilted woollens, so that I generally travelled in the third class train. +It wasn’t pleasant, to be sure; the company, at the best of times, a +pretty considerable sprinkling of runaway recruits, prisoners going to the +assizes, and wounded people run over by the last train; but it was cheap, +and that suited me. Well, one morning I took my ticket as usual, and was +about to take my place, when I found every carriage was full; there was +not room for my little portmanteau in one of them; and so I wandered up +and down while the bell was ringing, shoving my ticket into every one’s +face, and swearing I would bring the case before Parliament, if they did +not put on a special train for my own accommodation, when a smart-looking +chap called out to one of the porters,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Put that noisy little devil in the coupé; there’s room for him there.’ +</p> +<p> +“And so they whipped my legs from under me, and chucked me in, banged the +door, and said, ‘Go on;’ and just as if the whole thing was waiting for a +commercial traveller to make it all right, away went the train at twenty +miles an hour. When I had time to look around, I perceived that I had a +fellow-traveller, rather tall and gentlemanly, with a sallow face and dark +whiskers; he wore a brown upper-coat, all covered with velvet,—the +collar, the breasts, and even the cuffs,—and I perceived that he had +a pair of fur shoes over his boots,—signs of one who liked to make +himself comfortable. He was reading the ‘Morning Chronicle,’ and did not +desist as I entered, so that I had abundant time to study every little +peculiarity of his personal appearance, unnoticed by him. +</p> +<p> +“It was plain, from a number of little circumstances, that he belonged to +that class in life who have, so to say, the sunny side of existence. The +handsome rings which sparkled on his fingers, the massive gold snuff-box +which he coolly dropped into the pocket of the carriage, the splendid +repeater by which he checked the speed of the train, as though to intimate +you had better not be behind time with <i>me</i>, made me heave an +involuntary sigh over that strange but universal law of Providence by +which the goods of fortune are so unequally distributed. For about two +hours we journeyed thus, when at last my companion, who had opened in +succession some half-dozen newspapers, and, after skimming them slightly, +thrown them at his feet, turned to me, and said,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Would you like to see the morning papers, sir?’ pointing as he spoke, +with a kind of easy indifference, to the pile before him. ‘There’s the +“Chronicle,” “Times,” “Globe,” “Sun,” and “Examiner;” take your choice, +sir.’ +</p> +<p> +“And with that he yawned, stretched himself, and, letting down the glass, +looked out; thereby turning his back on me, and not paying the slightest +attention to the grateful thanks by which I accepted his offer. +</p> +<p> +“‘Devilish haughty,’ thought I; ‘should n’t wonder if he was one of the +great mill-owners here,—great swells they are, I hear.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah! you read the “Times,” I perceive,’ said he, turning round, and +fixing a steadfast and piercing look on me; ‘you read the “Times,”—a +rascally paper, an infamous paper, sir, a dishonest paper. Their +opposition to the new poor law is a mere trick, and their support of the +Peel party a contemptible change of principles.’ +</p> +<p> +“Lord! how I wished I had taken up the ‘Chronicle’! I would have paid a +week’s subscription to have been able to smuggle the ‘Examiner’ into my +hand at that moment. +</p> +<p> +“‘I ‘m a Whig, sir,’ said he; ‘and neither ashamed nor afraid to make the +avowal,—a Whig of the old Charles Fox school,—a Whig who +understands how to combine the happiness of the people with the privileges +of the aristocracy.’ +</p> +<p> +“And as he spoke he knitted his brows, and frowned at me, as though I were +Jack Cade bent upon pulling down the Church, and annihilating the monarchy +of these realms. +</p> +<p> +“‘You may think differently,’ continued he,—‘I perceive you do: +never mind, have the manliness to avow your opinions. You may speak freely +to one who is never in the habit of concealing his own; indeed, I flatter +myself that they are pretty well known by this time.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Who can he be?’ thought I. ‘Lord John is a little man, Lord Melbourne is +a fat one; can it be Lord Nor-manby, or is it Lord Howick?’ And so I went +on to myself, repeating the whole Whig Peerage, and then, coming down to +the Lower House, I went over every name I could think of, down to the +lowest round of the ladder, never stopping till I came to the member for +Sudbury. +</p> +<p> +“‘It ain’t him,’ thought I; ‘he has a lisp, and never could have such a +fine coat as that.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Have you considered, sir,’ said he, ‘where your Toryism will lead you +to? Have you reflected that you of the middle class—I presume you +belong to that order?’ +</p> +<p> +“I bowed, and muttered something about printed cottons. +</p> +<p> +“‘Have you considered that by unjustly denying the rights of the lower +orders under the impression that you are preserving the prerogative of the +throne, that you are really undermining our order?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘God forgive us,’ ejaculated I. ‘I hope we are not.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘But you are,’ said he; ‘it is you, and others like you, who will not see +the anomalous social condition of our country. You make no concessions +until wrung from you; you yield nothing except extorted by force; the +finances of the country are in a ruinous condition,—trade +stagnated.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Quite true,’ said I; ‘Wriggles and Briggs stopped payment on Tuesday; +there won’t be one and fourpence in the pound.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘D—n Wriggles and Briggs!’ said he; ‘don’t talk to me of such +contemptible cotton-spinner—’ +</p> +<p> +“‘They were in the hardware line,—plated dish-covers, japans, and +bronze fenders.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Confound their fenders!’ cried he again; ‘it is not of such grubbing +fabricators of frying-pans and fire-irons I speak; it is of the trade of +this mighty nation,—our exports, our imports, our colonial trade, +our foreign trade, our trade with the East, our trade with the West, our +trade with the Hindoos, our trade with the Esquimaux.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘He’s Secretary for the Colonies; he has the whole thing at his +finger-ends.’ +</p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/556.jpg" width="100%" alt="556 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +“‘Yes, sir,’ said he, with another frown, ‘our trade with the Esquimaux.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Bears are pretty brisk, too,’ said I; ‘but foxes is falling,—there +will be no stir in squirrels till near spring. I heard it myself from +Snaggs, who is in that line.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘D—n Snaggs,’ said he, scowling at me. +</p> +<p> +“‘Well, d—n him,’ said I, too; ‘he owes me thirteen and fonrpence, +balance of a little account between us.’ +</p> +<p> +“This unlucky speech of mine seemed to have totally disgusted my +aristocratic companion, for he drew his cap down over his eyes, folded his +arms upon his breast, stretched out his legs, and soon fell asleep; not, +however, with such due regard to the privileges of the humbler classes as +became One of his benevolent Whig principles, for he fell over against me, +flattening me into a corner of the vehicle, where he used me as a bolster, +and this for thirty-two miles of the journey. +</p> +<p> +“‘Where are we?’ said he, starting up suddenly; ‘what’s the name of this +place?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘This is Stretton,’ said I. ‘I must look sharp, for I get out at +Chesterfield.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Are you known here,’ said my companion, ‘to any one in these parts?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘No,’ said I, ‘it is my first turn on this road.’ +</p> +<p> +“He seemed to reflect for some moments, and then said, ‘You pass the night +at Chesterfield, don’t you?’ and, without waiting for my answer, added, +‘Well, we ‘ll take a bit of dinner there. You can order it,—six +sharp. Take care they have fish,—it would be as well that you tasted +the sherry; and, mark me! not a word about me;’ and with that he placed +his finger on his lips, as though to impress me with inviolable secrecy. +‘Do you mind, not a word.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I shall be most happy,’ said I, ‘to have the pleasure of your company; +but there’s no risk of my mentioning your name, as I have not the honor to +know it.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘My name is Cavendish,’ said he, with a very peculiar smile and a toss of +his head, as though to imply that I was something of an ignoramus not to +be aware of it. +</p> +<p> +“‘Mine is Baggs,’ said I, thinking it only fair to exchange. +</p> +<p> +“‘With all my heart, Raggs,’ said he, ‘we dine together,—that’s +agreed. You ‘ll see that everything’s right, for I don’t wish to be +recognized down here;’ and at these words, uttered rather in the tone of a +command, my companion opened a pocket-book, and commenced making certain +memoranda with his pencil, totally unmindful of me and of my concurrence +in his arrangements. +</p> +<p> +“‘Chesterfield, Chesterfield, Chesterfield,—any gentleman for +Chesterfield?’ shouted the porters, opening and shutting doors, as they +cried, with a rapidity well suited to their utterance. +</p> +<p> +“‘We get out here,’ said I; and my companion at the same moment descended +from the carriage, and, with an air of very aristocratic indifference, +ordered his luggage to be placed in a cab. It was just at this instant +that my eye caught the envelope of one of the newspapers which had fallen +at my feet, and, delighted at this opportunity of discovering something +more of my companion, I took it up and read—what do you think I +read?—true as I sit here, gentlemen, the words were, ‘His Grace the +Duke of Devonshire, Devonshire House.’ Lord bless me, if all Nottingham, +had taken the benefit of the act I could n’t be more of a heap,—a +cold shivering came over me at the bare thought of anything I might have +said to so illustrious a personage. ‘No wonder he should d—n +Snaggs,’ thought I. ‘Snaggs is a low, sneaking scoundrel, not fit to clean +his Grace’s shoes.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Hallo, Raggs, are you ready?’ cried the Duke. +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes, your Grace—my Lord—yes, sir,’ said I, not knowing how +to conceal my knowledge of his real station. I would have given five +shillings to be let sit outside with the driver, rather than crush myself +into the little cab, and squeeze the Duke up in the corner. +</p> +<p> +“‘We must have no politics, friend Raggs,’ said he, as we drove along,—‘you +and I can’t agree, that’s plain.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Heaven forbid, your Grace; that is, sir,’ said I, ‘that I should have +any opinions displeasing to you. My views—’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Are necessarily narrow-minded and miserable. I know it, Raggs. I can +conceive how creatures in your kind of life follow the track of opinion, +just as they do the track of the road, neither daring to think or reflect +for themselves. It is a sad and a humiliating picture of human nature, and +I have often grieved at it.’ Here his Grace blew his nose, and seemed +really affected at the degraded condition of commercial travellers. +</p> +<p> +“I must not dwell longer on the conversation between us,—if that, +indeed, be called conversation where the Duke spoke and I listened; for, +from the moment the dinner appeared,—and a very nice little clinner +it was: soup, fish, two roasts, sweets, and a piece of cheese,—his +Grace ate as if he had not a French cook at home, and the best cellar in +England. +</p> +<p> +“‘What do you drink, Raggs?’ said he; ‘Burgundy is my favorite, though +Brodie says it won’t do for me; at least when I have much to do in “the +House.” Strange thing, very strange thing I am going to mention to you,—no +Cavendish can drink Chambertin,—it is something hereditary. Chambers +mentioned to me one day that very few of the English nobility are without +some little idiosyncrasy of that kind. The Churchills never can taste gin; +the St. Maurs faint if they see strawberries and cream.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘The Baggs,’ said I, ‘never could eat tripe.’ I hope he did n’t say ‘D—n +the Baggs;’ but I almost fear he did. +</p> +<p> +“The Duke ordered up the landlord, and, after getting the whole state of +the cellar made known, desired three bottles of claret to be sent up, and +despatched a messenger through the town to search for olives. ‘We are very +backward, Raggs,’ said he. ‘In England we have no idea of life, nor shall +we, as long as these confounded Tories remain in power. With free trade, +sir, we should have the productions of France and Italy upon our tables, +without the ruinous expenditure they at present cost.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘You don’t much care for that,’ said I, venturing a half-hint at his +condition. +</p> +<p> +“‘No,’ said he, frankly; ‘I confess I do not. But I am not selfish, and +would extend my good wishes to others. How do you like that Lafitte? A +little tart,—a Very little. It drinks cold,—don’t you think +so?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘It is a freezing mixture,’ said I. ‘If I dare to ask for a warm with—’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Take what you like, Raggs—only don’t ask me to be of the party;’ +and with that he gazed at the wine between himself and the candle with the +glance of a true connoisseur. +</p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/560.jpg" width="100%" alt="560 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +“‘I’ll tell you,’ said he, ‘a little occurrence which happened me some +years since, not far from this; in fact, I may confess to you, it was at +Chatsworth. George the Forth came down on a visit to us for a few days in +the shooting-season,—not that he cared for sport, but it was an +excuse for something to do. Well, the evening he arrived, he dined in his +own apartment, nobody with him but—’ +</p> +<p> +“Just at this instant the landlord entered, with a most obsequious face +and an air of great secrecy. +</p> +<p> +“‘I beg pardon, gentlemen,’ said he; ‘but there’s a carriage come over +from Chats worth, and the footman won’t give the name of the gentleman he +wants.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Quite right,—quite right,’ said the Duke, waving his hand. ‘Let +the carriage wait. Come, Raggs, you seem to have nothing before you.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Bless your Grace,’ said I, ‘I ‘m at the end of my third tumbler.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Never mind,—mix another;’ and with that he pushed the decanter of +brandy towards me, and filled his own glass to the brim. +</p> +<p> +“‘Your health, Raggs,—I rather like you. I confess,’ continued he, +‘I’ve had rather a prejudice against your order. There is something d——d +low in cutting about the country with patterns in a bag.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘We don’t,’ said I, rather nettled; ‘we carry a pocket-book like this.’ +And here I produced my specimen order; but with one shy of his foot the +Duke sent it flying to the ceiling, as he exclaimed,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Confound your patchwork!—try to be a gentleman for once!’ +</p> +<p> +“‘So I will, then,’ said I. ‘Here’s your health, Devonshire.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Take care,—take care,’ said he, solemnly. ‘Don’t dare to take any +liberties with me,—they won’t do;’ and the words made my blood +freeze. +</p> +<p> +“I tossed off a glass neat to gain courage; for my head swam round, and I +thought I saw his Grace sitting before me, in his dress as Knight of the +Garter, with a coronet on his head, his ‘George’ round his neck, and he +was frowning at me most awfully. +</p> +<p> +“‘I did n’t mean it,’ said I, pitifully. ‘I am only a bagman, but very +well known on the western road,—could get security for three hundred +pounds, any day, in soft goods.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I am not angry, old Raggs,’ said the Duke. ‘None of my family ever bear +malice. Let us have a toast,—“A speedy return to our rightful +position on the Treasury benches.”’ +</p> +<p> +“I pledged his Grace with every enthusiasm; and when I laid my glass on +the table, he wrung my hand warmly and said,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Raggs, I must do something for you.’ +</p> +<p> +“From that moment I felt my fortune was made. The friendship—and was +I wrong in giving it that title?—the friendship of such a man was +success assured; and as I sipped my liquor, I ran over in my mind the +various little posts and offices I would accept of or decline. They ‘ll be +offering me some chief-justiceship in Gambia, or to be port-surveyor in +the Isle of Dogs, or something of that kind; but I won’t take it, nor will +I go out as bishop, nor commander of the forces, nor collector of customs +to any newly discovered island in the Pacific Ocean. ‘I must have +something at home here; I never could bear a sea-voyage,’ said I, aloud, +concluding my meditation by this reflection. +</p> +<p> +“‘Why, you are half-seas-over already, Raggs,’ said the Duke, as he sat +puffing his cigar in all the luxury of a Pacha. ‘I say,’ continued he, ‘do +you ever play a hand at <i>écarté</i>, or <i>vingt-et-un</i>, or any other +game for two?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I can do a little at five-and-ten,’ said I, timidly; for it is rather a +vulgar game, and I did n’t half fancy confessing it was my favorite. +</p> +<p> +“‘Five-and-ten!’ said the Duke; ‘that is a game exploded even from the +housekeeper’s room. I doubt if they’d play it in the kitchen of a +respectable family. Can you do nothing else?’ +</p> +<p> +“Pope-joan and pitch-and-toss were then the extent of my accomplishments; +but I was actually afraid to own to them; and so I shook my head in token +of dissent. +</p> +<p> +“‘Well, be it so,’ said he, with a sigh. ‘Touch that bell, and let us see +if they have a pack of cards in the house.’ +</p> +<p> +“The cards were soon brought, a little table with a green baize covering—it +might have been a hearth-rug for coarseness—placed at the fire, and +down we sat. We played till the day was beginning to break, chatting and +sipping between time; and although the stakes were only sixpences, the +Duke won eight pounds odd shillings, and I had to give him an order on a +house in Leeds for the amount. I cared little for the loss, it is true. +The money was well invested,—somewhat more profitably than the +‘three-and-a-halfs,’ any way. +</p> +<p> +“‘Those horses,’ said the Duke,—‘those horses will feel a bit cold +or so by this time. So I think, Raggs, I must take my leave of you. We +shall meet again, I ‘ve no doubt, some of these days. I believe you know +where to find me in town?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I should think so,’ said I, with a look that conveyed more than mere +words. ‘It is not such a difficult matter.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Well, then, good-bye, old fellow,’ said he, with as warm a shake of the +hand as ever I felt in my life. ‘Goodbye. I have told you to make use of +me, and, I repeat it, I ‘ll be as good as my word. We are not in just now; +but there ‘s no knowing what may turn up. <i>Besides, whether in office or +out, we are never without our influence</i>.’ +</p> +<p> +“What extent of professions my gratitude led me into, I cannot clearly +remember now; but I have a half-recollection of pledging his Grace in +something very strong, and getting a fit of coughing in an attempt to +cheer, amid which he drove off as fast as the horses could travel, waving +me a last adieu from the carriage window. +</p> +<p> +“As I jogged along the road on the following day, one only passage of the +preceding night kept continually recurring to my mind. Whether it was that +his Grace spoke the words with a peculiar emphasis, or that this last blow +on the drum had erased all memory of previous sounds; but so it was,—I +continued to repeat as I went, ‘Whether in office or out, we have always +our influence.’ +</p> +<p> +“This sentence became my guiding star wherever I went. It supported me in +every casualty and under every misfortune. Wet through with rain, late for +a coach, soaked in a damp bed, half starved by a bad dinner, overcharged +in an inn, upset on the road, without hope, without an ‘order,’ I had only +to fall back upon my talisman, and rarely had to mutter it twice, ere +visions of official wealth and power floated before me, and imagination +conjured up gorgeous dreams of bliss, bright enough to dispel the darkest +gloom of evil fortune; and as poets dream of fairy forms skipping from the +bells of flowers by moonlight, and light-footed elves disporting in the +deep cells of water-lilies or sailing along some glittering stream, the +boat a plantain-leaf, so did I revel in imaginary festivals, surrounded by +peers and marquises, and thought I was hobnobbing with ‘the Duke,’ or +dancing a cotillon with Lord Brougham at Windsor. +</p> +<p> +“I began to doubt if a highly imaginative temperament, a richly endowed +fancy, a mind glowing with bright and glittering conceptions, an +organization strongly poetical, be gifts suited to the career and habits +of a commercial traveller. The base and grovelling tastes of manufacturing +districts, the low tone of country shopkeepers, the mean and narrow-minded +habits of people in the hardware line, distress and irritate a man with +tastes and aspirations above smoke-jacks and saucepans. <i>He</i> may, it +is true, sometimes undervalue them; <i>they</i> never, by any chance, can +understand him. Thus was it from the hour I made the Duke’s acquaintance,—business +went ill with me; the very philosophy that supported me under all my trial +seemed only to offend them; and more than once I was insulted, because I +said at parting, ‘Never mind,—in office or out, we have always our +influence.’ The end of it was, I lost my situation; my employers coolly +said that my brain did n’t seem all right, and they sent me about my +business,—a pleasant phrase that,—for when a man is turned +adrift upon the world, without an object or an occupation, with nowhere to +go to, nothing to do, and, mayhap, nothing to eat, he is then said to be +sent about his business. Can it mean that his only business then is to +drown himself? Such were not my thoughts, assuredly. I made my late master +a low bow, and, muttering my old <i>refrain</i> ‘In office or out,’ etc., +took my leave and walked off. For a day or two I hunted the coffee-houses +to read all the newspapers, and discover, if I could, what government +situations were then vacant; for I knew that the great secret in these +matters is always to ask for some definite post or employment, because the +refusal, if you meet it, suggests the impression of disappointment, and, +although they won’t make you a Treasury Lord, there ‘s no saying but they +may appoint you a Tide-waiter. I fell upon evil days,—excepting a +Consul for Timbuctoo, and a Lord Lieutenant for Ireland, there was nothing +wanting,—the latter actually, as the ‘Times’ said, was going +a-begging. In the corner of the paper, however, almost hidden from view, I +discovered that a collector of customs—I forget where exactly—had +been eaten by a crocodile, and his post was in the gift of the Colonial +Office. ‘Come, here’s the very thing for me,’ thought I. ‘” In office or +out”—now for it;’ and with that I hurried to my lodgings to dress +for my interview with his Grace of Devonshire. +</p> +<p> +“There is a strange flutter of expectancy, doubt, and pleasure in the +preparation one makes to visit a person whose exalted sphere and higher +rank have made him a patron to you. It is like the sensation felt on +entering a large shop with your book of patterns, anxious and fearful +whether you may leave without an order. Such in great part were my +feelings as I drove along towards Devonshire House; and although pretty +certain of the cordial reception that awaited me, I did not exactly like +the notion of descending to ask a favor. +</p> +<p> +“Every stroke of the great knocker was answered by a throb at my own side, +if not as loud, at least as moving, for my summons was left unanswered for +full ten minutes. Then, when I was meditating on the propriety of a second +appeal, the door was opened and a very sleepy-looking footman asked me, +rather gruffly, what I wanted. +</p> +<p> +“‘To see his Grace; he is at home, is n’t he?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes, he is at home, but you cannot see him at this hour; he’s at +breakfast.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘No matter,’ said I, with the easy confidence our former friendship +inspired; ‘just step up and say Mr. Baggs, of the Northern Circuit,—Baggs, +do you mind?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I should like to see myself give such a message,’ replied the fellow, +with an insolent drawl; ‘leave your name here, and come back for your +answer.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Take this, scullion,’ said I, haughtily, drawing forth my card, which I +did n’t fancy producing at first, because it set forth as how I was +commercial traveller in the long hose and flannel way, for a house in +Glasgow. ‘Say he is the gentleman his Grace dined with at Chesterfield in +March last.’ +</p> +<p> +“The mention of a dinner struck the fellow with such amazement that +without venturing another word, or even a glance at my card, he mounted +the stairs to apprise the Duke of my presence. +</p> +<p> +“‘This way, sir; his Grace will see you,’ said he, in a very modified +tone, as he returned in a few minutes after. +</p> +<p> +“I threw on him a look of scowling contempt at the alter-ation his manner +had undergone, and followed him upstairs. After passing through several +splendid apartments, he opened one side of a folding-door, and calling out +‘Mr. Baggs,’ shut it behind me, leaving me in the presence of a very +distinguished-looking personage, seated at breakfast beside the fire. +</p> +<p> +“‘I believe you are the person that has the Blenheim spaniels,’ said his +Grace, scarce turning his head towards me as he spoke. +</p> +<p> +“‘No, my Lord, no,—never had a dog in my life; but are you—are +you the Duke of Devonshire?’ cried I, in a very faltering voice. +</p> +<p> +“‘I believe so, sir,’ said he, standing up and gazing at me with a look of +bewildered astonishment I can never forget. +</p> +<p> +“‘Dear me,’ said I, ‘how your Grace is altered! You were as large again +last April, when we travelled down to Nottingham. Them light French wines, +they are ruining your constitution; I knew they would.’ +</p> +<p> +“The Duke made no answer, but rang the bell violently for some seconds. +</p> +<p> +“‘Bless my heart,’ said I, ‘it surely can’t be that I ‘m mistaken. It’s +not possible it wasn’t your Grace.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Who is this man?’ said the Duke, as the servant appeared in answer to +the bell. ‘Who let him upstairs?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Mr. Baggs, your Grace,’ he said. ‘He dined with your Grace at—’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Take him away, give him in charge to the police; the fellow must be +punished for his insolence.’ +</p> +<p> +“My head was whirling, and my faculties were all astray. I neither knew +what I said, nor what happened after, save that I felt myself half led, +half pushed, down the stairs I had mounted so confidently five minutes +before, while the liveried rascal kept dinning into my ears some threats +about two months’ imprisonment and hard labor. Just as we were passing +through the hall, however, the door of a front-parlor opened, and a +gentleman in a very elegant dressing-gown stepped out. I had neither time +nor inclination to mark his features,—my own case absorbed me too +completely. ‘I am an unlucky wretch,’ said I, aloud. ‘Nothing ever +prospers with me.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Cheer up, old boy,’ said he of the dressing-gown: ‘fortune will take +another turn yet; but I do confess you hold miserable cards.’ +</p> +<p> +“The voice as he spoke aroused me. I turned about, and there stood my +companion at Chesterfield. +</p> +<p> +“‘His Grace wants you, Mr. Cavendish,’ said the footman, as he opened the +door for me. +</p> +<p> +“‘Let him go, Thomas,’ said Mr. Cavendish. ‘There’s no harm in old Raggs.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Isn’t he the Duke?’ gasped I, as he tripped upstairs without noticing me +further. +</p> +<p> +“‘The Duke,—no, bless your heart, he’s his gentleman!’ +</p> +<p> +“Here was an end of all my cherished hopes and dreams of patronage. The +aristocratic leader of fashion, the great owner of palaces, the Whig +autocrat, tumbled down into a creature that aired newspapers and scented +pocket-handkerchiefs. Never tell me of the manners of the titled classes +again. Here was a specimen that will satisfy my craving for a life long; +and if the reflection be so strong, what must be the body which causes +it!” + </p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/567.jpg" width="100%" alt="567 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +<a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> +<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> +</p> +<div style="height: 4em;"> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> +<h2> +THE WHITE LACE BONNET +</h2> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/568.jpg" width="100%" alt="568 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +It is about two years since I was one of that strange and busy mob of some +five hundred people who were assembled on the platform in the +Euston-Square station a few minutes previous to the starting of the +morning mail-train for Birmingham. To the unoccupied observer the scene +might have been an amusing one; the little domestic incidents of +leave-taking and embracing, the careful looking after luggage and parcels, +the watchful anxieties for a lost cloak or a stray carpet-bag, blending +with the affectionate farewells of parting, are all curious, while the +studious preparation for comfort of the old gentleman in the <i>coupé</i> +oddly contrast with similar arrangements on a more limited scale by the +poor soldier’s wife in the third-class carriage. +</p> +<p> +Small as the segment of humanity is, it is a type of the great world to +which it belongs. +</p> +<p> +I sauntered carelessly along the boarded terrace, investigating, by the +light of the guard’s lantern, the inmates of the different carriages, and, +calling to my assistance my tact as a physiognomist as to what party I +should select for my fellow-passengers,—“Not in there, assuredly,” + said I to myself, as I saw the aquiline noses and dark eyes of two +Hamburgh Jews; “nor here, either,—I cannot stand a day in a nursery; +nor will this party suit me, that old gentleman is snoring already;” and +so I walked on until at last I bethought me of an empty carriage, as at +least possessing negative benefits, since positive ones were denied me. +Scarcely had the churlish determination seized me, when the glare of the +light fell upon the side of a bonnet of white lace, through whose +transparent texture a singularly lovely profile could be seen. Features +purely Greek in their character, tinged with a most delicate color, were +defined by a dark mass of hair, worn in a deep band along the cheek almost +to the chin. There was a sweetness, a look of guileless innocence, in the +character of the face which, even by the flitting light of the lantern, +struck me strongly. I made the guard halt, and peeped into the carriage as +if seeking for a friend. By the uncertain flickering, I could detect the +figure of a man, apparently a young one, by the lady’s side; the carriage +had no other traveller. “This will do,” thought I, as I opened the door, +and took my place on the opposite side. +</p> +<p> +Every traveller knows that locomotion must precede conversation; the +veriest commonplace cannot be hazarded till the piston is in motion or the +paddles are flapping. The word “Go on” is as much for the passengers as +the vehicle, and the train and the tongues are set in movement together; +as for myself, I have been long upon the road, and might travesty the +words of our native poet, and say,— +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +“My home is on the highway.” + </pre> +<p> +I have therefore cultivated, and I trust with some success, the tact of +divining the characters, condition, and rank of fellow-travellers,—the +speculation on whose peculiarities has often served to wile away the +tediousness of many a wearisome road and many an uninteresting journey. +</p> +<p> +The little lamp which hung aloft gave me but slight opportunity of +prosecuting my favorite study on this occasion. All that I could trace was +the outline of a young and delicately formed girl, enveloped in a cashmere +shawl,—a slight and inadequate muffling for the road at such a +season. The gentleman at her side was attired in what seemed a dress-coat, +nor was he provided with any other defence against the cold of the +morning. +</p> +<p> +Scarcely had I ascertained these two facts, when the lamp flared, +flickered, and went out, leaving me to speculate on these vague but yet +remarkable traits in the couple before me. “What can they be?” “Who are +they?” “Where do they come from?” “Where are they going?” were all +questions which naturally presented themselves to me in turn; yet every +inquiry resolved itself into the one, “Why has she not a cloak, why has +not he got a Petersham?” Long and patiently did I discuss these points +with myself, and framed numerous hypotheses to account for the +circumstances,—but still with comparatively little satisfaction, as +objections presented themselves to each conclusion; and although, in turn, +I had made him a runaway clerk from Coutts’s, a Liverpool actor, a member +of the swell-mob, and a bagman, yet I could not, for the life of me, +include <i>her</i> in the category of such an individual’s companions. +Neither spoke, so that from their voices, that best of all tests, nothing +could be learned. +</p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/571.jpg" width="100%" alt="571 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +Wearied by my doubts, and worried by the interruption to my sleep the +early rising necessitated, I fell soon into a sound doze, lulled by the +soothing “strains” a locomotive so eminently is endowed with. The +tremulous quavering of the carriage, the dull roll of the heavy wheels, +the convulsive beating and heaving of the black monster itself, gave the +tone to my sleeping thoughts, and my dreams were of the darkest. I thought +that, in a gloomy silence, we were journeying over a wild and trackless +plain, with no sight nor sound of man, save such as accompanied our sad +procession; that dead and leafless trees were grouped about, and roofless +dwellings and blackened walls marked the dreary earth; dark sluggish +streams stole heavily past, with noisome weeds upon their surface; while +along the sedgy banks sat leprous and glossy reptiles, glaring with round +eyes upon us. Suddenly it seemed as if our speed increased; the earth and +sky flew faster past, and objects became dim and indistinct; a misty maze +of dark plain and clouded heaven were all I could discern; while straight +in front, by the lurid glare of a fire fitted round and about two dark +shapes danced a wild goblin measure, tossing their black limbs with +frantic gesture, while they brandished in their hands bars of seething +iron; one, larger and more dreadful than the other, sung in a “rauque” + voice, that sounded like the clank of machinery, a rude song, beating time +to the tune with his iron bar. The monotonous measure of the chant, which +seldom varied in its note, sank deep into my chilled heart; and I think I +hear still +</p> +<p> +THE SONG OF THE STOKER. +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Rake, rake, rake, +Ashes, cinders, and coal; +The fire we make, +Must never slake, +Like the fire that roasts a soul. +Hurrah! my boys, ‘t is a glorious noise, +To list to the stormy main; +But nor wave-lash’d shore +Nor lion’s roar +E’er equall’d a luggage train. +‘Neath the panting sun our course we run, +No water to slake our thirst; +Nor ever a pool +Our tongue to cool, +Except the boiler burst. + +The courser fast, the trumpet’s blast, +Sigh after us in vain; +And even the wind +We leave behind +With the speed of a special train. + +Swift we pass o’er the wild morass, +Tho’ the night be starless and black; +Onward we go, +Where the snipe flies low, +Nor man dares follow our track. + +A mile a minute, on we go, +Hurrah for my courser fast; +His coal-black mane, +And his fiery train, +And his breath—a furnace blast +On and on, till the day is gone, +We rush with a goblin scream; +And the cities, at night, +They start with affright, +At the cry of escaping steam. + +Bang, bang, bang! +Shake, shiver, and throb; +The sound of our feet +Is the piston’s beat, +And the opening valve our sob! +Our union-jack is the smoke-train black, +That thick from the funnel rolls; +And our bounding bark +Is a gloomy ark, +And our cargo—human souls. + +Rake, rake, rake, +Ashes, cinders, and coal; +The fire we make, +Must never slake, +Like the fire that roasts a soul. +</pre> +<p> +“Bang, bang, bang!” said I, aloud, repeating this infernal “refrain,” and +with an energy that made my two fellow-travellers burst out laughing. This +awakened me from my sleep, and enabled me to throw off the fearful incubus +which rested on my bosom; so strongly, however, was the image of my dream, +so vivid the picture my mind had conjured up, and, stranger than all, so +perfect was the memory of the demoniac song, that I could not help +relating the whole vision, and repeating for my companions the words, as I +have here done for the reader. As I proceeded in my narrative, I had ample +time to observe the couple before me. The lady—for it is but +suitable to begin with her—was young, she could scarcely have been +more than twenty, and looked by the broad daylight even handsomer than by +the glare of the guard’s lantern; she was slight, but, as well as I could +observe, her figure was very gracefully formed, and with a decided air of +elegance detectable even in the ease and repose of her attitude. Her dress +was of pale blue silk, around the collar of which she wore a profusion of +rich lace, of what peculiar loom I am, unhappily, unable to say; nor would +I allude to the circumstance, save that it formed one of the most +embarrassing problems in my efforts at divining her rank and condition. +Never was there such a travelling-costume; and although it suited +perfectly the frail and delicate beauty of the wearer, it ill accorded +with the dingy “conveniency” in which we journeyed. Even to her shoes and +stockings (for I noticed these,—the feet were perfect) and gloves,—all +the details of her dress had a freshness and propriety one rarely or ever +sees encountering the wear and tear of the road. The young gentleman at +her side—for he, too, was scarcely more than five-and-twenty, at +most—was also attired in a costume as little like that of a +traveller; a dress-coat and evening waistcoat, over which a profusion of +chains were festooned in that mode so popular in our day, showed that he +certainly, in arranging his costume, had other thoughts than of wasting +such attractions on the desert air of a railroad journey. He was a +good-looking young fellow, with that mixture of frankness and careless +ease the youth of England so eminently possess, in contradistinction to +the young men of other countries; his manner and voice both attested that +he belonged to a good class, and the general courtesy of his demeanor +showed one who had lived in society. While he evinced an evident desire to +enter into conversation and amuse his companion, there was still an +appearance of agitation and incertitude about him which showed that his +mind was wandering very far from the topic before him. More than once he +checked himself, in the course of some casual merriment, and became +suddenly grave,—while from time to time he whispered to the young +lady, with an appearance of anxiety and eagerness all his endeavors could +not effectually conceal. She, too, seemed agitated,—but, I thought, +less so than he; it might be, however, that from the habitual quietude of +her manner, the traits of emotion were less detectable by a stranger. We +had not journeyed far, when several new travellers entered the carriage, +and thus broke up the little intercourse which had begun to be established +between us. The new arrivals were amusing enough in their way,—there +was a hearty old Quaker from Leeds, who was full of a dinner-party he had +been at with Feargus O’Connor, the day before; there was an interesting +young fellow who had obtained a fellowship at Cambridge, and was going +down to visit his family; and lastly, a loud-talking, load-laughing member +of the tail, in the highest possible spirits at the prospect of Irish +politics, and exulting in the festivities he was about to witness at +Derrynane Abbey, whither he was then proceeding with some other Danaïdes, +to visit what Tom Steele calls “his august leader.” My young friends, +however, partook little in the amusement the newly arrived travellers +afforded; they neither relished the broad, quaint common-sense of the +Quaker, the conversational cleverness of the Cambridge man, or the pungent +though somewhat coarse drollery of the “Emeralder.” They sat either +totally silent or conversing in a low, indistinct murmur, with their heads +turned towards each other. The Quaker left us at Warwick, the “Fellow” + took his leave soon after, and the O’Somebody was left behind at a +station; the last thing I heard of him, being his frantic shouting as the +train moved off, while he was endeavoring to swallow a glass of hot brandy +and water. We were alone then once more; but somehow the interval which +had occurred had chilled the warm current of our intercourse; perhaps, +too, the effects of a long day’s journey were telling on us all, and we +felt that indisposition to converse which steals over even the most +habitual traveller towards the close of a day on the road. Partly from +these causes, and more strongly still from my dislike to obtrude +conversation upon those whose minds were evidently preoccupied, I too lay +back in my seat and indulged my own reflections in silence. I had sat for +some time thus, I know not exactly how long, when the voice of the young +lady struck on my ear; it was one of those sweet, tinkling silver sounds +which somehow when heard, however slightly, have the effect at once to +dissipate the dull routine of one’s own thoughts, and suggest others more +relative to the speaker. +</p> +<p> +“Had you not better ask him?” said she; “I am sure he can tell you.” The +youth apparently demurred, while she insisted the more, and at length, as +if yielding to her entreaty, he suddenly turned towards me and said, “I am +a perfect stranger here, and would feel obliged if you could inform me +which is the best hotel in Liverpool.” He made a slight pause and added, +“I mean a quiet family hotel.” + </p> +<p> +“I rarely stop in the town myself,” replied I; “but when I do, to +breakfast or dine, I take the Adelphi. I ‘m sure you will find it very +comfortable.” + </p> +<p> +They again conversed for a few moments together; and the young man, with +an appearance of some hesitation, said, “Do you mean to go there now, +sir?” + </p> +<p> +“Yes,” said I, “my intention is to take a hasty dinner before I start in +the steamer for Ireland; I see by my watch I shall have ample time to do +so, as we shall arrive full half an hour before our time.” + </p> +<p> +Another pause, and another little discussion ensued, the only words of +which I could catch from the young lady being, “I’m certain he will have +no objection.” Conceiving that these referred to myself, and guessing at +their probable import, I immediately said, “If you will allow me to be +your guide, I shall feel most happy to show you the way; we can obtain a +carriage at the station, and proceed thither at once.” + </p> +<p> +I was right in my surmise—both parties were profuse in their +acknowledgments—the young man avowing that it was the very request +he was about to make when I anticipated him. We arrived in due time at the +station, and, having assisted my new acquaintances to alight, I found +little difficulty in placing them in a carriage, for luggage they had +none, neither portmanteau nor carpet-bag—not even a dressing-case—a +circumstance at which, however, I might have endeavored to avoid +expressing my wonder, they seemed to feel required an explanation at their +hands; both looked confused and abashed, nor was it until by busying +myself in the details of my own baggage, that I was enabled to relieve +them from the embarrassment the circumstance occasioned. +</p> +<p> +“Here we are,” said I: “this is the Adelphi,” as we stopped at that +comfortable and hospitable portal, through which the fumes of brown gravy +and ox-tail float with a savory odor as pleasant to him who enters with +dinner intentions as it is tantalizing to the listless wanderer without. +</p> +<p> +The lady thanked me with a smile, as I handed her into the house, and a +very sweet smile too, and one I could have fancied the young man would +have felt a little jealous of, if I had not seen the ten times more +fascinating one she bestowed on him. +</p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/577.jpg" width="100%" alt="577 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +The young man acknowledged my slight service with thanks, and made a half +gesture to shake hands at parting, which, though a failure, I rather +liked, as evidencing, even in its awkwardness, a kindness of disposition—for +so it is. Gratitude smacks poorly when expressed in trim and measured +phrase; it seems not the natural coinage of the heart when the impression +betrays too clearly the mint of the mind. +</p> +<p> +“Good-bye,” said I, as I watched their retiring figures up the wide +staircase. “She is devilish pretty; and what a good figure! I did not +think any other than a French woman could adjust her shawl in that +fashion.” And with these very soothing reflections I betook myself to the +coffee-room, and soon was deep in discussing the distinctive merits of +mulligatawny, mock-turtle, or mutton chops, or listening to that +everlasting paean every waiter in England sings in praise of the “joint.” + </p> +<p> +In all the luxury of my own little table, with my own little salt-cellar, +my own cruet-stand, my beer-glass, and its younger brother for wine, I sat +awaiting the arrival of my fare, and puzzling my brain as to the unknown +travellers. Now, had they been but clothed in the ordinary fashion of the +road,—if the lady had worn a plaid cloak and a beaver bonnet,—if +the gentleman had a brown Taglioui and a cloth cap, with a cigar-case +peeping out of his breast-pocket, like everybody else in this smoky world,—had +they but the ordinary allowance of trunks and boxes,—I should have +been coolly conning over the leading article of the “Times,” or enjoying +the spicy leader in the last “Examiner;” but, no,—they had shrouded +themselves in a mystery, though not in garments; and the result was that +I, gifted with that inquiring spirit which Paul Pry informs us is the +characteristic of the age, actually tortured myself into a fever as to who +and what they might be,—the origin, the course, and the probable +termination of their present adventure,—for an adventure I +determined it must be. “People do such odd things nowadays,” said I, +“there’s no knowing what the deuce they may be at. I wish I even knew +their names, for I am certain I shall read to-morrow or the next day in +the second column of the ‘Times,’ ‘Why will not W. P. and C. P. return to +their afflicted friends? Write at least,—write to your bereaved +parents, No. 12 Russell Square;’ or, ‘If F. M. S. will not inform her +mother whither she has gone, the deaths of more than two of the family +will be the consequence.’” Now, could I only find out their names, I could +relieve so much family apprehension—Here comes the soup, however,—admirable +relief to a worried brain! how every mouthful swamps reflection!—even +the platitude of the waiter’s face is, as the Methodists say, “a blessed +privilege,” so agreeably does it divest the mind of a thought the more, +and suggest that pleasant vacuity so essential to the hour of dinner. The +tureen was gone, and then came one of those strange intervals which all +taverns bestow, as if to test the extent of endurance and patience of +their guests. +</p> +<p> +My thoughts turned at once to their old track. “I have it,” said I, as a +bloody-minded suggestion shot through my brain. “This is an affair of +charcoal and oxalic acid, this is some damnable device of arsenic or +sugar-of-lead,—these young wretches have come down here to poison +themselves, and be smothered in that mode latterly introduced among us. +There will be a double-locked door and smell of carbonic gas through the +key-hole in the morning. I have it all before me, even to the maudlin +letter, with its twenty-one verses of maudlin poetry at the foot of it. I +think I hear the coroner’s charge, and see the three shillings and +eightpence halfpenny produced before the jury, that were found in the +youth’s possession, together with a small key and a bill for a luncheon at +Birmingham. By Jove, I will prevent it, though; I will spoil their fun +this time; if they will have physic, let them have something just as +nauseous, but not so injurious. My own notion is a basin of this soup and +a slice of the ‘joint,’ and here it comes;” and thus my meditations were +again destined to be cut short, and revery give way to reality. +</p> +<p> +I was just helping myself to my second slice of mutton, when the young man +entered the coffee-room, and walked towards me. At first his manner +evinced hesitation and indecision, and he turned to the fireplace, as if +with some change of purpose; then, as if suddenly summoning his +resolution, he came up to the table at which I sat, and said,— +</p> +<p> +“Will you favor me with five minutes of your time?” + </p> +<p> +“By all means,” said I; “sit down here, and I’m your man; you must excuse +me, though, if I proceed with my dinner, as I see it is past six o’clock, +and the packet sails at seven.” + </p> +<p> +“Pray, proceed,” replied he; “your doing so will in part excuse the +liberty I take in obtruding myself upon you.” + </p> +<p> +He paused, and although I waited for him to resume, he appeared in no +humor to do so, but seemed more confused than before. +</p> +<p> +“Hang it,” said he at length, “I am a very bungling negotiator, and never +in my life could manage a matter of any difficulty.” + </p> +<p> +“Take a glass of sherry,” said I; “try if that may not assist to recall +your faculties.” + </p> +<p> +“No, no,” cried he; “I have taken a bottle of it already, and, by Jove, I +rather think my head is only the more addled. Do you know that I am in a +most confounded scrape. I have run away with that young lady; we were at +an evening-party last night together, and came straight away from the +supper-table to the train.” + </p> +<p> +“Indeed!” said I, laying down my knife and fork, not a little gratified +that I was at length to learn the secret that had so long teased me. “And +so you have run away with her!” + </p> +<p> +“Yes; it was no sudden thought, however,—at least, it was an old +attachment; I have known her these two months.” + </p> +<p> +“Oh! oh!” said I; “then there was prudence in the affair.” + </p> +<p> +“Perhaps you will say so,” said he, quickly, “when I tell you she has +£30,000 in the Funds, and something like £1700 a year besides,—not +that I care a straw for the money, but, in the eye of the world, that kind +of thing has its <i>éclat</i>.” + </p> +<p> +“So it has,” said I, “and a very pretty <i>éclat</i> it is, and one that, +somehow or another, preserves its attractions much longer than most +surprises; but I do not see the scrape, after all.” + </p> +<p> +“I am coming to that,” said he, glancing timidly around the room. “The +affair occurred this wise: we were at an evening-party,—a kind of <i>déjeûné</i>, +it was, on the Thames,—Charlotte came with her aunt,—a +shrewish old damsel, that has no love for me; in fact, she very soon saw +my game, and resolved to thwart it. Well, of course I was obliged to be +most circumspect, and did not venture to approach her, not even to ask her +to dance, the whole evening. As it grew late, however, I either became +more courageous or less cautious, and I did ask her for a waltz. The old +lady bristled up at once, and asked for her shawl. Charlotte accepted my +invitation, and said she would certainly not retire so early; and I, to +cut the matter short, led her to the top of the room. We waltzed together, +and then had a ‘gallop,’ and after that some champagne, and then another +waltz; for Charlotte was resolved to give the old lady a lesson,—she +has spirit for anything! Well, it was growing late by this time, and we +went in search of the aunt at last; but, by Jove! she was not to be found. +We hunted everywhere for her, looked well in every corner of the +supper-room, where it was most likely we should discover her; and at +length, to our mutual horror and dismay, we learned that she had ordered +the carriage up a full hour before, and gone off, declaring that she would +send Charlotte’s father to fetch her home, as she herself possessed no +influence over her. Here was a pretty business,—the old gentleman +being, as Charlotte often told me, the most choleric man in England. He +had killed two brother officers in duels, and narrowly escaped being +hanged at Maidstone for shooting a waiter who delayed bringing him the +water to shave,—a pleasant old boy to encounter on such an occasion +at this! +</p> +<p> +“‘He will certainly shoot me,—he will shoot you,—he will kill +us both!’ were the only words she could utter; and my blood actually froze +at the prospect before us. You may smile if you like; but let me tell you +that an outraged father, with a pair of patent revolving pistols, is no +laughing matter. There was nothing for it, then, but to ‘bolt.’ <i>She</i> +saw that as soon as I did; and although she endeavored to persuade me to +suffer her to return home alone, that, you know, I never could think of; +and so, after some little demurrings, some tears, and some resistance, we +got to the Euston-Square station, just as the train was going. You may +easily think that neither of us had much time for preparation. As for +myself, I have come away with a ten-pound note in my purse,—not a +shilling more have I in my possession; and here we are now, half of that +sum spent already, and how we are to get on to the North, I cannot for the +life of me conceive.” + </p> +<p> +“Oh! that’s it,” said I, peering at him shrewdly from under my eyelids. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, that ‘s it; don’t you think it is bad enough?” and he spoke the +words with a reckless frankness that satisfied all my scruples. “I ought +to tell you,” said he, “that my name is Blunden; I am lieutenant in the +Buffs, on leave; and now that you know my secret, will you lend me twenty +pounds? which perhaps, may be enough to carry us forward,—at least, +it will do, until it will be safe for me to write for money.” + </p> +<p> +“But what would bring you to the North?” said I; “why not put yourselves +on board the mail-packet this evening, and come to Dublin? We will marry +you there just as cheaply; pursuit of you will be just as difficult; and I +‘d venture to say, you might choose a worse land for the honeymoon.” + </p> +<p> +“But I have no money,” said he; “you forgot that.” + </p> +<p> +“For the matter of money,” said I, “make your mind easy. If the young lady +is going away with her own consent,—if, indeed, she is as anxious to +get married as you are,—make me the banker, and I ‘ll give her away, +be the bridesmaid, or anything else you please.” + </p> +<p> +“You are a trump,” said he, helping himself to another glass of my sherry; +and then filling out a third, which emptied the bottle, he slapped me on +the shoulder, and said, “Here ‘s your health; now come upstairs.” + </p> +<p> +“Stop a moment,” said I, “I must see her alone,—there must be no +tampering with the evidence.” + </p> +<p> +He hesitated for a second, and surveyed me from head to foot; and whether +it was the number of my double chins or the rotundity of my waistcoat +divested his mind of any jealous scruples, but he smiled coolly, and said, +“So you shall, old buck,—we will never quarrel about that.” + </p> +<p> +Upstairs we went accordingly, and into a handsome drawing-room on the +first floor, at one end of which, with her head buried in her hands, the +young lady was sitting. +</p> +<p> +“Charlotte,” said he, “this gentleman is kind enough to take an interest +in our fortunes, but he desires a few words with you alone.” + </p> +<p> +I waved my hand to him to prevent his making any further explanation, and +as a signal to withdraw; he took the hint and left the room. +</p> +<p> +Now, thought I, this is the second act of the drama; what the deuce am I +to do here? In the first place, some might deem it my duty to admonish the +young damsel on the impropriety of the step, to draw an afflicting picture +of her family, to make her weep bitter tears, and end by persuading her to +take a first-class ticket in the up-train. This would be the grand +parento-moral line; and I shame to confess it, it was never my forte. +Secondly, I might pursue the inquiry suggested by myself, and ascertain +her real sentiments. This might be called the amico-auxiliary line. Or, +lastly, I might try a little, what might be done on my own score, and not +see £30,000 and £1700 a year squandered by a cigar-smoking lieutenant in +the Buffs. As there may be different opinions about this line, I shall not +give it a name. Suffice it to say, that, notwithstanding a sly peep at as +pretty a throat and as well rounded an instep as ever tempted a +“government Mercury,” I was true to my trust, and opened the negotiation +on the honest footing. +</p> +<p> +“Do you love him, my little darling?” said I; for somehow consolation +always struck me as own-brother to love-making. It is like indorsing a +bill for a friend, which, though he tells you he ‘ll meet, you always feel +responsible for the money. +</p> +<p> +She turned upon me an arch look. By St. Patrick, I half regretted I had +not tried number three, as in the sweetest imaginable voice she said,— +</p> +<p> +“Do you doubt it?” + </p> +<p> +“I wish I could,” thought I to myself. No matter, it was too late for +regrets; and so I ascertained, in a very few minutes, that she +corroborated every portion of the statement, and was as deeply interested +in the success of the adventure as himself. +</p> +<p> +“That will do,” said I. “He is a lucky fellow,—I always heard the +Buffs were;” and with that I descended to the coffee-room, where the young +man awaited me with the greatest anxiety. +</p> +<p> +“Are you satisfied?” cried he, as I entered the room. +</p> +<p> +“Perfectly,” was my answer. “And now let us lose no more time; it wants +but a quarter to seven, and we must be on board in ten minutes.” + </p> +<p> +As I have already remarked, my fellow-travellers were not burdened with +luggage, so there was little difficulty in expediting their departure; and +in half an hour from that time we were gliding down the Mersey, and gazing +on the spangled lamps which glittered over that great city of soap, sugar, +and sassafras, train-oil, timber, and tallow. The young lady soon went +below, as the night was chilly; but Blunden and myself walked the deck +until near twelve o’clock, chatting over whatever came uppermost, and +giving me an opportunity to perceive that, without possessing any +remarkable ability or cleverness, he was one of those offhand, candid, +clear-headed young fellows, who, when trained in the admirable discipline +of the mess, become the excellent specimens of well-conducted, +well-mannered gentlemen our army abounds with. +</p> +<p> +We arrived in due course in Dublin. I took my friends up to Morrison’s, +drove with them after breakfast to a fashionable milliner’s, where the +young lady, with an admirable taste, selected such articles of dress as +she cared for, and I then saw them duly married. I do not mean to say that +the ceremony was performed by a bishop, or that a royal duke gave her +away; neither can I state that the train of carriages comprised the +equipages of the leading nobility. I only vouch for the fact that a little +man, with a black eye and a sinister countenance, read a ceremony of his +own composing, and made them write their names in a great book, and pay +thirty shillings for his services; after which I put a fifty-pound note +into Blunden’s hand, saluted the bride, and, wishing them every health and +happiness, took my leave. +</p> +<p> +They started at once with four posters for the North, intending to cross +over to Scotland. My engagements induced me to leave town for Cork, and in +less than a fortnight I found at my club a letter from Blunden, enclosing +the fifty pounds, with a thousand thanks for my prompt kindness, and +innumerable affectionate reminiscences from Madame. They were as happy as—confound +it, every one is happy for a week or a fortnight; so I crushed the letter, +pitched it into the fire, was rather pleased with myself for what I had +done, and thought no more of the whole transaction. +</p> +<p> +Here then my tale should have an end, and the moral is obvious. Indeed, I +am not certain but some may prefer it to that which the succeeding portion +conveys, thinking that the codicil revokes the body of the testament. +However that may be, here goes for it. +</p> +<p> +It was about a year after this adventure that I made one of a party of six +travelling up to London by the “Grand Junction.” The company were chatty, +pleasant folk, and the conversation, as often happens among utter +strangers, became anecdotic; many good stories were told in turn, and many +pleasant comments made on them, when at length it occurred to me to +mention the somewhat singular rencontre I have already narrated as having +happened to myself. +</p> +<p> +“Strange enough,” said I, “the last time I journeyed along this line, +nearly this time last year, a very remarkable occurrence took place. I +happened to fall in with a young officer of the Buffs, eloping with an +exceedingly pretty girl; she had a large fortune, and was in every respect +a great ‘catch;’ he ran away with her from an evening party, and never +remembered, until he arrived at Liverpool, that he had no money for the +journey. In this dilemma, the young fellow, rather spooney about the whole +thing, I think would have gone quietly back by the next train, but, by +Jove, I could n’t satisfy my conscience that so lovely a girl should be +treated in such a manner. I rallied his courage; took him over to Ireland +in the packet, and got them married the next morning.” + </p> +<p> +“Have I caught you at last, you old, meddling scoundrel!” cried a voice, +hoarse and discordant with passion, from the opposite side; and at the +same instant a short, thickset old man, with shoulders like a Hercules, +sprung at me. With one hand he clutched me by the throat, and with the +other he pummelled my head against the panel of the conveyance, and with +such violence that many people in the next carriage averred that they +thought we had run into the down train. So sudden was the old wretch’s +attack, and so infuriate withal, it took the united force of the other +passengers to detach him from my neck; and even then, as they drew him +off, he kicked at me like a demon. Never has it been my lot to witness +such an outbreak of wrath; and, indeed, were I to judge from the symptoms +it occasioned, the old fellow had better not repeat it, or assuredly +apoplexy would follow. +</p> +<p> +“That villain,—that old ruffian,” said he, glaring at me with +flashing eyeballs, while he menaced me with his closed fist,—“that +cursed, meddling scoundrel is the cause of the greatest calamity of my +life.” + </p> +<p> +“Are you her father, then?” articulated I, faintly, for a misgiving came +over me that my boasted benevolence might prove a mistake. “Are you her +father?” The words were not out, when he dashed at me once more, and were +it not for the watchfulness of the others, inevitably had finished me. +</p> +<p> +“I’ve heard of you, my old buck,” said I, affecting a degree of ease and +security my heart sadly belied. “I ‘ve heard of your dreadful temper +already,—I know you can’t control yourself. I know all about the +waiter at Maidstone. By Jove, they did not wrong you; and I am not +surprised at your poor daughter leaving you—” But he would not +suffer me to conclude; and once more his wrath boiled over, and all the +efforts of the others were barely sufficient to calm him into a semblance +of reason. +</p> +<p> +There would be an end to my narrative if I endeavored to convey to my +reader the scene which followed, or recount the various outbreaks of +passion which ever and anon interrupted the old man, and induced him to +diverge into sundry little by-ways of lamentation over his misfortune, and +curses upon my meddling interference. Indeed his whole narrative was +conducted more in the staccato style of an Italian opera father than in +the homely wrath of an English parent; the wind-up of these dissertations +being always to the one purpose, as with a look of scowling passion +directed towards me, he said, “Only wait till we reach the station, and +see if I won’t do for you.” + </p> +<p> +His tale, in few words, amounted to this. He was the Squire Blunden,—the +father of the lieutenant in the “Buffs.” The youth had formed an +attachment to a lady whom he had accidentally met in a Margate steamer. +The circumstances of her family and fortune were communicated to him in +confidence by herself; and although she expressed her conviction of the +utter impossibility of obtaining her father’s consent to an untitled +match, she as resolutely refused to elope with him. The result, however, +was as we have seen; she did elope,—was married,—they made a +wedding tour in the Highlands, and returned to Blunden Hall two months +after, where the old gentleman welcomed them with affection and +forgiveness. About a fortnight after their return, it was deemed necessary +to make inquiry as to the circumstances of her estate and funded property, +when the young lady fell upon her knees, wept bitterly, said she had not a +sixpence,—that the whole thing was a “ruse;” that she had paid five +pounds for a choleric father, three ten for an aunt warranted to wear +“satin;” in fact, that she had been twice married before, and had heavy +misgivings that the husbands were still living. +</p> +<p> +There was nothing left for it but compromise. “I gave her,” said he, “five +hundred pounds to go to the devil, and I registered, the same day, a +solemn oath that if ever I met this same Tramp, he should carry the +impress of my knuckles on his face to the day of his death.” + </p> +<p> +The train reached Harrow as the old gentleman spoke. I waited until it was +again in motion, and, flinging wide the door, I sprang out, and from that +day to this have strictly avoided forming acquaintance with a white lace +bonnet, even at a distance, or ever befriending a lieutenant in the Buffs. +</p> +<p> +<a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> +<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> +</p> +<div style="height: 4em;"> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> +<h2> +FAST ASLEEP AND WIDE AWAKE +</h2> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/588.jpg" width="100%" alt="588 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +I got into the Dover “down train” at the station, and after seeking for a +place in two or three of the leading carriages, at last succeeded in +obtaining one where there were only two other passengers. These were a +lady and a gentleman,—the former, a young, pleasing-looking girl, +dressed in quiet mourning; the latter was a tall, gaunt, bilious-looking +man, with grisly gray hair, and an extravagantly aquiline nose. I guessed, +from the positions they occupied in the carriage, that they were not +acquaintances, and my conjecture proved subsequently true. The young lady +was pale, like one in delicate health, and seemed very weary and tired, +for she was fast asleep as I entered the carriage, and did not awake, +notwithstanding all the riot and disturbance incident to the station. I +took my place directly in front of my fellow-travellers; and whether from +mere accident, or from the passing interest a pretty face inspires, cast +my eyes towards the lady; the gaunt man opposite fixed on me a look of +inexpressible shrewdness, and with a very solemn shake of his head, +whispered in a low undertone,— +</p> +<p> +“No! no! not a bit of it; she ain’t asleep,—they never do sleep,—never!” + </p> +<p> +“Oh!” thought I to myself, “there’s another class of people not remarkable +for over-drowsiness; “for, to say truth, the expression of the speaker’s +face and the oddity of his words made me suspect that he was not a miracle +of sanity. The reflection had scarcely passed through my mind, when he +arose softly from his seat, and assumed a place beside me. +</p> +<p> +“You thought she was fast,” said he, as he laid his hand familiarly on my +arm; “I know you did,—I saw it the moment you came into the +carriage.” + </p> +<p> +“Why, I did think—” + </p> +<p> +“Ah! that’s deceived many a one. Lord bless you, sir, they are not +understood, no one knows them; “and at these words he heaved a profound +sigh, and dropped his head upon his bosom, as though the sentiment had +overwhelmed him with affliction. +</p> +<p> +“Riddles, sir,” said he to me, with a glare of his eyes that really looked +formidable,—“sphinxes; that’s what they are. Are you married?” + whispered he. +</p> +<p> +“No, sir,” said I, politely; for as I began to entertain more serious +doubts of my companion’s intellect, I resolved to treat him with every +civility. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t believe it matters a fig,” said he; “the Pope of Rome knows as +much about them as Bluebeard.” + </p> +<p> +“Indeed,” said I, “are these your sentiments?” + </p> +<p> +“They are,” replied he, in a still lower whisper; “and if we were to talk +modern Greek this moment, I would not say but <i>she</i>”—and here +he made a gesture towards the young lady opposite—“but <i>she</i> +would know every word of it. It is not supernatural, sir, because the law +is universal; but it is a most—what shall I say, sir?—a most +extraordinary provision of nature,—wonderful! most wonderful!” + </p> +<p> +“In Heaven’s name, why did they let him out?” exclaimed I to myself. +</p> +<p> +“Now she is pretending to awake,” said he, as he nudged me with his elbow; +“watch her, see how well she will do it.” Then turning to the lady, he +added in a louder voice,— +</p> +<p> +“You have had a refreshing sleep, I trust, ma’am?” + </p> +<p> +“A very heavy one,” answered she, “for I was greatly fatigued.” + </p> +<p> +“Did not I tell you so?” whispered he again in my ear. “Oh!” and here he +gave a deep groan, “when they ‘re in delicate health, and they ‘re greatly +fatigued, there’s no being up to them!” + </p> +<p> +The remainder of our journey was not long in getting over; but brief as it +was, I could not help feeling annoyed at the pertinacity with which the +bilious gentleman purposely misunderstood every word the young lady spoke. +The most plain, matter-of-fact observations from her were received by him +as though she was a monster of duplicity; and a casual mistake as to the +name of a station he pounced upon, as though it were a wilful and +intentional untruth. This conduct, on his part, was made ten times worse +to me by his continued nudgings of the elbow, sly winks, and muttered +sentences of “You hear that”—“There’s more of it”—“You would +not credit it now,” etc.; until at length he succeeded in silencing the +poor girl, who, in all likelihood, set us both down for the two greatest +savages in England. +</p> +<p> +On arriving at Dover, although I was the bearer of despatches requiring +the utmost haste, a dreadful hurricane from the eastward, accompanied by a +tremendous swell, prevented any packet venturing out to sea. The commander +of “The Hornet,” however, told me, should the weather, as was not +improbable, moderate towards daybreak, he would do his best to run me over +to Calais; “only be ready,” said he, “at a moment’s notice, for I will get +the steam up, and be off in a jiffy, whenever the tide begins to ebb.” In +compliance with this injunction, I determined not to go to bed, and, +ordering my supper in a private room, I prepared myself to pass the +intervening time as well as might be. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Yellowley’s compliments,” said the waiter, as I broke the crust of a +veal-pie, and obtained a bird’s-eye view of that delicious interior, where +hard eggs and jelly, mushrooms, and kidney, were blended together in a +delicious harmony of coloring. “Mr. Yellowley’s compliments, sir, and will +take it as a great favor if he might join you at supper.” + </p> +<p> +“Have not the pleasure of knowing him,” said I, shortly,—“bring me a +pint of sherry,—don’t know Mr. Yellowley.” + </p> +<p> +“Yes, but you do, though,” said the gaunt man of the railroad, as he +entered the room, with four cloaks on one arm, and two umbrellas under the +other. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! it’s you,” said I, half rising from my chair; for in spite of my +annoyance at the intrusion, a certain degree of fear of my companion +overpowered me. +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” said he, solemnly. “Can you untie this cap? The string has got into +a black-knot, I fear; “and so he bent down his huge face while I +endeavored to relieve him of his head-piece, wondering within myself +whether they had shaved him at the asylum. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, that’s comfortable!” said he at last; and he drew his chair to the +table, and helped himself to a considerable portion of the pie, which he +covered profusely with red pepper. +</p> +<p> +Little conversation passed during the meal. My companion ate voraciously, +filling up every little pause that occurred by a groan or a sigh, whose +vehemence and depth were strangely in contrast with his enjoyment of the +good cheer. When the supper was over, and the waiter had placed fresh +glasses, and with that gentle significance of his craft had deposited the +decanter, in which a spoonful of sherry remained, directly in front of me, +Mr. Yellowley looked at me for a moment, threw up his eyebrows, and with +an air of more <i>bonhomie</i> than I thought he could muster, said,— +</p> +<p> +“You will have no objection, I hope, to a little warm brandy and water.” + </p> +<p> +“None whatever; and the less, if I may add a cigar.” + </p> +<p> +“Agreed,” said he. +</p> +<p> +These ingredients of our comfort being produced, and the waiter having +left the room, Mr. Yellowley stirred the fire into a cheerful blaze, and, +nodding amicably towards me, said,— +</p> +<p> +“Your health, sir; I should like to have added your name.” + </p> +<p> +“Tramp,—Tilbury Tramp,” said I, “at your service.” I would have +added Q. C, as the couriers took that lately; but it leads to mistakes, so +I said nothing about it. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Tramp,” said my companion, while he placed one hand in his waistcoat, +in that attitude so favored by John Kemble and Napoleon. “You are a young +man?” + </p> +<p> +“Forty-two,” said I, “if I live till June.” + </p> +<p> +“You might be a hundred and forty-two, sir.” + </p> +<p> +“Lord bless you!” said I, “I don’t look so old.” + </p> +<p> +“I repeat it,” said he, “you might be a hundred and forty-two, and not +know a whit more about them.” + </p> +<p> +“Here we are,” thought I, “back on the monomania.” + </p> +<p> +“You may smile,” said he, “it was an ungenerous insinuation. Nothing was +farther from my thoughts; but it’s true,—they require the study of a +lifetime. Talk of Law or Physic or Divinity; it’s child’s play, sir. Now, +you thought that young girl was asleep.” + </p> +<p> +“Why, she certainly looked so.” + </p> +<p> +“Looked so,” said he, with a sneer; “what do I look like? Do I look like a +man of sense or intelligence?” + </p> +<p> +“I protest,” said I, cautiously, “I won’t suffer myself to be led away by +appearances; I would not wish to be unjust to you.” + </p> +<p> +“Well, sir, that artful young woman’s deception of you has preyed upon me +ever since; I was going on to Walmer to-night, but I could n’t leave this +without seeing you once more, and giving you a caution.” + </p> +<p> +“Dear me. I thought nothing about it. You took the matter too much to +heart.” + </p> +<p> +“Too much to heart,” said he, with a bitter sneer; “that’s the cant that +deceives half the world. If men, sir, instead of undervaluing these small +and apparently trivial circumstances, would but recall their experiences, +chronicle their facts, as Bacon recommended so wisely, we should possess +some safe data to go upon, in our estimate of that deceitful sex.” + </p> +<p> +“I fear,” said I, half timidly, “you have been ill-treated by the ladies?” + </p> +<p> +A deep groan was the only response. +</p> +<p> +“Come, come, bear up,” said I; “you are young, and a fine-looking man +still” (he was sixty, if he was an hour, and had a face like the +figure-head of a war-steamer). +</p> +<p> +“I will tell you a story, Mr. Tramp,” said he, solemnly,—“a story to +which, probably, no historian, from Polybius to Hoffman, has ever recorded +a parallel. I am not aware, sir, that any man has sounded the oceanic +depths of that perfidious gulf,—a woman’s heart; but I, sir, I have +at least added some facts to the narrow stock of our knowledge regarding +it. Listen to this:”— +</p> +<p> +I replenished my tumbler of brandy and water, looked at my watch, and, +finding I still had two hours to spare, lent a not unwilling ear to my +companion’s story. +</p> +<p> +“For the purpose of my tale,” said Mr. Yellowley, “it is unnecessary that +I should mention any incident of my life more remote than a couple of +years back. About that time it was, that, using all the influence of very +powerful friends, I succeeded in obtaining the consul-generalship at +Stralsund. My arrangements for departure were made with considerable +despatch; but on the very week of my leaving England, an old friend of +mine was appointed to a situation of considerable trust in the East, +whither he was ordered to repair, I may say, at a moment’s notice. Never +was there such a <i>contretemps</i>. He longed for the North of Europe,—I, +with equal ardor, wished for a tropical climate; and here were we both +going in the very direction antagonist to our wishes! My friend’s +appointment was a much more lucrative one than mine; but so anxious was he +for a residence more congenial to his taste, that he would have exchanged +without a moment’s hesitation. +</p> +<p> +“By a mere accident, I mentioned this circumstance to the friend who had +procured my promotion. Well, with the greatest alacrity, he volunteered +his services to effect the exchange; and with such energy did he fulfil +his pledge, that on the following evening I received an express, informing +me of my altered destination, but directing me to proceed to Southampton +on the next day, and sail by the Oriental steamer. This was speedy work, +sir; but as my preparations for a journey had long been made, I had very +little to do, but exchange some bear-skins with my friend for cotton +shirts and jackets, and we both were accommodated. Never were two men in +higher spirits,—he, with his young wife, delighted at escaping what +he called banishment; I equally happy in my anticipation of the glorious +East. +</p> +<p> +“Among the many papers forwarded to me from the Foreign Office was a +special order for free transit the whole way to Calcutta. This document +set forth the urgent necessity there existed to pay me every possible +attention <i>en route</i>; in fact, it was a sort of Downing-Street +firman, ordering all whom it might concern to take care of Simon +Yellowley, nor permit him to suffer any let, impediment, or inconvenience +on the road. But a strange thing, Mr. Tramp,—a very strange thing,—was +in this paper. In the exchange of my friend’s appointment for my own, the +clerk had merely inserted <i>my</i> name in lieu of his in all the papers; +and then, sir, what should I discover but that this free transit extended +to ‘Mr. Yellowley and lady,’ while, doubtless, my poor friend was obliged +to travel <i>en garçon?</i> This extraordinary blunder I only discovered +when leaving London in the train. +</p> +<p> +“We were a party of three, sir.” Here he groaned deeply. “Three,—just +as it might be this very day. I occupied the place that you did this +morning, while opposite to me were a lady and a gentleman. The gentleman +was an old round-faced little man, chatty and merry after his fashion. The +lady—the lady, sir—if I had never seen her but that day, I +should now call her an angel. Yes, Mr. Tramp, I flatter myself that few +men understand female beauty better. I admire the cold regularity and +impassive loveliness of the North, I glory in the voluptuous magnificence +of Italian beauty; I can relish the sparkling coquetry of France, the +plaintive quietness and sleepy tenderness of Germany; nor do I undervalue +the brown pellucid skin and flashing eye of the Malabar; but she, sir, she +was something higher than all these; and it so chanced that I had ample +time to observe her, for when I entered the carriage she was asleep—asleep,” + said he, with a bitter mockery Macready might have envied. “Why do I say +asleep? No, sir!—she was in that factitious trance, that wiliest +device of Satan’s own creation, a woman’s sleep,—the thing invented, +sir, merely to throw the shadow of dark lashes on a marble cheek, and +leave beauty to sink into man’s heart without molestation. Sleep, sir!—the +whole mischief the world does in its waking moments is nothing to the +doings of such slumber! If she did not sleep, how could that braid of +dark-brown hair fall loosely down upon her blue-veined hand; if she did +not sleep, how could the color tinge with such evanescent loveliness the +cheek it scarcely colored; if she did not sleep, how could her lips smile +with the sweetness of some passing thought, thus half recorded? No, sir; +she had been obliged to have sat bolt upright, with her gloves on and her +veil down. She neither could have shown the delicious roundness of her +throat nor the statue-like perfection of her instep. But sleep,—sleep +is responsible for nothing. Oh, why did not Macbeth murder it, as he said +he had! +</p> +<p> +“If I were a legislator, sir, I’d prohibit any woman under forty-three +from sleeping in a public conveyance. It is downright dangerous,—I +would n’t say it ain’t immoral. The immovable aspect of placid beauty, Mr. +Tramp, etherealizes a woman. The shrewd housewife becomes a houri; and a +milliner—ay, sir, a milliner—might be a Maid of Judah under +such circumstances!” + </p> +<p> +Mr. Yellowley seemed to have run himself out of breath with this burst of +enthusiasm; for he was unable to resume his narrative until several +minutes after, when he proceeded thus: +</p> +<p> +“The fat gentleman and myself were soon engaged in conversation. He was +hastening down to bid some friends good-bye, ere they sailed for India. I +was about to leave my native country, too,—perhaps forever. +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes, sir,’ said I, addressing him, ‘Heaven knows when I shall behold +these green valleys again, if ever. I have just been appointed Secretary +and Chief Counsellor to the Political Resident at the court of the Rajah +of Sautaucantantarabad!—a most important post—three thousand +eight hundred and forty-seven miles beyond the Himalaya.’ +</p> +<p> +“And here—with, I trust, a pardonable pride—I showed him the +government order for my free transit, with the various directions and +injunctions concerning my personal comfort and safety. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah,’ said the old gentleman, putting on his spectacles to read,—‘ah, +I never beheld one of these before. Very curious,—very curious, +indeed. I have seen a sheriff’s writ, and an execution; but this is far +more remarkable,—“Simon Yellowley, Esq., and lady.” Eh?—so +your lady accompanies you, sir?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Would she did,—would to Heaven she did!’ exclaimed I, in a +transport. +</p> +<p> +“‘Oh, then, she’s afraid, is she? She dreads the blacks, I suppose.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘No, sir; I am not married. The insertion of these words was a mistake of +the official who made out my papers; for, alas! I am alone in the world.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘But why don’t you marry, sir?’ said the little man, briskly, and with an +eye glistening with paternity. ‘Young ladies ain’t scarce—’ +</p> +<p> +“‘True, most true; but even supposing I were fortunate enough to meet the +object of my wishes, I have no time. I received this appointment last +evening; to-day I am here, to-morrow I shall be on the billows!’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, that’s unfortunate, indeed,—very unfortunate.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Had I but one week,—a day,—ay, an hour, sir,’ said I, ‘I ‘d +make an offer of my brilliant position to some lovely creature who, tired +of the dreary North and its gloomy skies, would prefer the unclouded +heaven of the Himalaya and the perfumed breezes of the valley of +Santancantantarabad!’ +</p> +<p> +“A lightly breathed sigh fell from the sleeping beauty, and at the same +time a smile of inexpressible sweetness played upon her lips; but, like +the ripple upon a glassy stream, that disappearing left all placid and +motionless again, the fair features were in a moment calm as before. +</p> +<p> +“‘She looks delicate,’ whispered my companion. +</p> +<p> +“‘Our detestable climate!’ said I, bitterly; for she coughed twice at the +instant. ‘Oh, why are the loveliest flowers the offspring of the deadliest +soil!’ +</p> +<p> +“She awoke, not suddenly or abruptly, but as Venus might have risen from +the sparkling sea and thrown the dew-drops from her hair, and then she +opened her eyes. Mr. Tramp, do you understand eyes?” + </p> +<p> +“I can’t say I have any skill that way, to speak of.” + </p> +<p> +“I’m sorry for it,—deeply, sincerely sorry; for to the uninitiated +these things seem naught. It would be as unprofitable to put a Rembrandt +before a blind man as discuss the aesthetics of eyelashes with the +unbeliever. But you will understand me when I say that her eyes were blue,—blue +as the Adriatic!—not the glassy doll’s-eye blue, that shines and +glistens with a metallic lustre; nor that false depth, more gray than +blue, that resembles a piece of tea-lead; but the color of the sea, as you +behold it five fathoms down, beside the steep rocks of Genoa! And what an +ocean is a woman’s eye, with bright thoughts floating through it, and love +lurking at the bottom! Am I tedious, Mr. Tramp?” + </p> +<p> +“No; far from it,—only very poetical.” + </p> +<p> +“Ah, I was once,” said Mr. Yellowley, with a deep sigh. “I used to write +sweet things for ‘The New Monthly;’ but Campbell was very jealous of me,—couldn’t +abide me. Poor Campbell! he had his failings, like the rest of us. +</p> +<p> +“Well, sir, to resume. We arrived at Southampton, but only in time to +hasten down to the pier, and take boat for the ship. The blue-peter was +flying at the mast-head, and people hurrying away to say ‘good-bye’ for +the last time. I, sir, I alone had no farewells to take. Simon Yellowley +was leaving his native soil, unwept and unregretted! Sad thoughts these, +Mr. Tramp,—very sad thoughts. Well, sir, we were aboard at last, +above a hundred of us, standing amid the lumber of our carpet-bags, +dressing-cases, and hat-boxes, half blinded by the heavy spray of the +condensed steam, and all deafened by the din. +</p> +<p> +“The world of a great packet-ship, Mr. Tramp, is a very selfish world, and +not a bad epitome of its relative on shore. Human weaknesses are so hemmed +in by circumstances, the frailties that would have been dissipated in a +wider space are so concentrated by compression, that middling people grow +bad, and the bad become regular demons. There is, therefore, no such +miserable den of selfish and egotistical caballing, slander, gossip, and +all malevolence, as one of these. Envy of the man with a large berth,—sneers +for the lady that whispered to the captain,—guesses as to the rank +and station of every passenger, indulged in with a spirit of impertinence +absolutely intolerable,—and petty exclu-siveness practised by every +four or five on board, against some others who have fewer servants or less +luggage than their neighbors. Into this human bee-hive was I now plunged, +to be bored by the drones, stung by the wasps, and maddened by all. ‘No +matter,’ thought I, 4 Simon Yellowley has a great mission to fulfil.’ Yes, +Mr. Tramp, I remembered the precarious position of our Eastern +possessions,—I bethought me of the incalculable services the ability +of even a Yellow-ley might render his country in the far-off valley of the +Himalaya, and I sat down on my portmanteau, a happier—nay, I will +say, a better man. +</p> +<p> +“The accidents—we call them such every day—the accidents which +fashion our lives, are always of our own devising, if we only were to take +trouble enough to trace them. I have a theory on this head, but I ‘m +keeping it over for a kind of a Bridgewater Treatise. It is enough now to +remark that though my number at the dinner-table was 84, I exchanged with +another gentleman, who could n’t bear a draught, for a place near the +door, No. 122. Ah, me! little knew I then what that simple act was to +bring with it. Bear in mind, Mr. Tramp, 122; for, as you may remember, +Sancho Panza’s story of the goatherd stopped short, when his master forgot +the number of the goats; and that great French novelist, M. de Balzac, +always hangs the interest of his tale on some sum in arithmetic, in which +his hero’s fortune is concerned: so my story bears upon this number. Yes, +sir, the adjoining seat, No. 123, was vacant. There was a cover and a +napkin, and there was a chair placed leaning against the table, to mark it +out as the property of some one absent; and day by day was that vacant +place the object of my conjectures. It was natural this should be the +case. My left-hand neighbor was the first mate, one of those sea animals +most detestable to a landsman. He had a sea appetite, a sea voice, sea +jokes, and, worst of all, a sea laugh. I shall never forget that fellow. I +never spoke to him that he did not reply in some slang of his abominable +profession; and all the disagreeables of a floating existence were +increased ten-fold by the everlasting reference to the hated theme,—a +ship. What he on the right hand might prove, was therefore of some moment +to me. Another <i>Coup de Mer</i> like this would be unendurable. The +crossest old maid, the testiest old bachelor, the most peppery nabob, the +flattest ensign, the most boring of tourists, the most careful of mothers, +would be a boon from heaven in comparison with a blue-jacket. Alas! Mr. +Tramp, I was left very long to speculate on this subject. We were buffeted +down the Channel, we were tossed along the coast of France, and blown +about the Bay of Biscay before 123 ever turned up; when one day—it +was a deliciously calm day (I shall not forget it soon)—we even +could see the coast of Portugal, with its great mountains above Cintra. +Over a long reach of sea, glassy as a mirror, the great ship clove her +way,—the long foam-track in her wake, the only stain on that blue +surface. Every one was on deck: the old asthmatic gentleman, whose cough +was the curse of the after-cabin, sat with a boa round his neck, and +thought he enjoyed himself. Ladies in twos and threes walked up and down +together, chatting as pleasantly as though in Kensington Gardens. The +tourist sent out by Mr. Colburn was taking notes of the whole party, and +the four officers in the Bengal Light Horse had adjourned their daily +brandy and water to a little awning beside the wheel. There were +sketch-books and embroidery-frames and journals on all sides; there was +even a guitar, with a blue ribbon round it; and amid all these remindings +of shore life, a fat poodle waddled about, and snarled at every one. The +calm, sir, was a kind of doomsday, which evoked the dead from their tombs; +and up they came from indescribable corners and nooks, opening their eyes +with amazement upon the strange world before them, and some almost feeling +that even the ordeal of sea-sickness was not too heavy a penalty for an +hour so bright, though so fleeting. +</p> +<p> +“‘Which is 123?’ thought I, as I elbowed my way along the crowded +quarter-deck, now asking myself could it be the thin gentleman with the +two capes, or the fat lady with the three chins? But there is a prescience +which never fails in the greater moments of our destiny, and this told me +it was none of these. We went down to dinner, and for the first time the +chair was not placed against the table, but so as to permit a person to be +seated on it. +</p> +<p> +“‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ said the steward to me, ‘could you move a +little this way? 123 is coming in to dinner, and she would like to have +the air of the doorway.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘She would,’ thought I; ‘oh, so this is a she, at all events;’ and scarce +was the reflection made, when the rustle of a silk dress was heard +brushing my chair. I turned, and what do you think, Mr. Tramp?—shall +I endeavor to describe my emotions to you?” + </p> +<p> +This was said in a tone so completely questioning that I saw Mr. Yellowley +waited for my answer. +</p> +<p> +“I am afraid, sir,” said I, looking at my watch, “if the emotions you +speak of will occupy much time, we had better skip them, for it only wants +a quarter to twelve.” + </p> +<p> +“We will omit them, then, Mr. Tramp; for, as you justly observe, they +would require both time and space. Well, sir, to be brief, 123 was the +angel of the railroad.” + </p> +<p> +“The lady you met at—” + </p> +<p> +“Yes, sir, if you prefer to call her the lady; for I shall persist in my +previous designation. Oh, Mr. Tramp, that was the great moment of my life. +You may have remarked that we pass from era to era of our existence, as +though it were from one chamber to another. The gay, the sparkling, and +the brilliant succeed to the dark and gloomy apartment, scarce illumined +by a ray of hope, and we move on in our life’s journey, with new objects +suggesting new actions, and the actions engendering new frames of thought, +and we think ourselves wiser as our vicissitudes grow thicker; but I must +not continue this theme. To me, this moment was the greatest transition of +my life. Here was the ideal before me, which neither art had pictured, nor +genius described,—the loveliest creature I ever beheld. She turned +round on taking her place, and with a slight gesture of surprise +recognized me at once as her former fellow-traveller. I have had proud +moments in my life, Mr. Tramp. I shall never forget how the Commander of +the Forces at Boulahcush said to me in full audience, in the presence of +all the officials,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Yellowley, this is devilish hot,—hotter than we have it in +Europe.’ +</p> +<p> +“But here was a prouder moment still: that little graceful movement of +recognition, that smile so transient as to be scarce detected, sent a +thrill of happiness all through me. In former days, by doughty deeds and +hazardous exploits men won their way to women’s hearts; our services in +the present time have the advantage of being less hazardous; little +attentions of the table, passing the salt, calling for the pepper, lifting +a napkin, and inviting to wine, are the substitutes for mutilating giants +and spitting dragons. I can’t say but I think the exchange is with the +difference. +</p> +<p> +“The first day passed over with scarce the interchange of a word between +us. She arose almost immediately after dinner, and did not make her +appearance during the remainder of the evening. The following morning she +took her place at the breakfast-table, and to my inexpressible delight, as +the weather still remained calm, ascended to the quarterdeck when the meal +was over. The smile with which she met me now had assumed the token of +acquaintance, and a very little address was necessary, on my part, to +enable me to join her as she walked, and engage her in conversation. The +fact of being so young and so perfectly alone—for except her French +maid, she did not appear to know a single person on board—perhaps +appeared to demand some explanation on her part, even to a perfect +stranger like myself; for, after some passing observations on the scenery +of the coast and the beauty of the weather, she told me that she looked +forward with much hope to the benefit her health might derive from a +warmer air and less trying climate than that of England. +</p> +<p> +“‘I already feel benefited by the sweet South,’ said she; and there was a +smile of gratitude on her lip, as she spoke the words. Some little farther +explanation she may have deemed necessary; for she took the occasion soon +after to remark that her only brother would have been delighted with the +voyage, if he could have obtained leave of absence from his regiment; but, +unfortunately, he was in ‘the Blues,’ quartered at Windsor, and could not +be spared. +</p> +<p> +“‘Poor dear creature!’ said I; ‘and so she has been obliged to travel thus +alone, reared doubtless within the precincts of some happy home, from +which the world, with its petty snares and selfishness, were excluded, +surrounded by all the appliances of luxury, and the elegances that +embellish existence—and now, to venture thus upon a journey without +a friend, or even a companion.’ +</p> +<p> +“There could scarcely be a more touching incident than to see one like +her, so beautiful and so young, in the midst of that busy little world of +soldiers and sailors and merchants, travellers to the uttermost bounds of +the earth, and wearied spirits seeking for change wherever it might be +found. Had I not myself been alone, a very ‘waif’ upon the shores of life, +I should have felt attracted by the interest of her isolation; now there +was a sympathy to attach us,—there was that similarity of position—that +<i>idem nolle, et idem velle</i>—which, we are told, constitutes +true friendship. She seemed to arrive at this conclusion exactly as I did +myself, and received with the most captivating frankness all the little +attentions it was in my power to bestow; and in fact to regard me, in some +sort, as her companion. Thus, we walked the deck each morning it was fine, +or, if stormy, played at chess or piquet in the cabin. Sometimes she +worked while I read aloud for her; and such a treat as it was to hear her +criticisms on the volume before us,—how just and true her +appreciation of sound and correct principles,—how skilful the +distinctions she would make between the false glitter of tinsel sentiment +and the dull gold of real and sterling morality! Her mind, naturally a +gifted one, had received every aid education could bestow. French and +Italian literature were as familiar to her as was English, while in mere +accomplishments she far excelled those who habitually make such +acquirements the grand business of early life. +</p> +<p> +“You are, I presume, a man of the world, Mr. Tramp. You may, perhaps, deem +it strange that several days rolled over before I ever even thought of +inquiring her name; but such was the case. It no more entered into my +conception to ask after it, than I should have dreamed of what might be +the botanical designation of some lovely flower by whose beauty and +fragrance I was captivated. Enough for me that the bright petals were +tipped with azure and gold, and the fair stem was graceful in its slender +elegance. I cared not where Jussieu might have arranged or Linnaeus +classed it. But a chance revealed the matter even before it had occurred +to me to think of it. A volume of Shelley’s poems contained on the +titlepage, written in a hand of singular delicacy, the words, ‘Lady +Blanche D’Esmonde.’ Whether the noble family she belonged to were English, +Irish, or Scotch, I could not even guess. It were as well, Mr. Tramp, that +I could not do so. I should only have felt a more unwarrantable attachment +for that portion of the empire she came from. Yes, sir, I loved her. I +loved her with an ardor that the Yellowleys have been remarkable for, +during three hundred and eighty years. It was <i>my</i> ancestor, Mr. +Tramp,—Paul Yellowley,—who was put in the stocks at Charing +Cross, for persecuting a maid of honor at Elizabeth’s court. That haughty +Queen and cold-hearted woman had the base inscription written above his +head, ‘The penaltie of a low scullion who lifteth his eyes too loftilie.’ +</p> +<p> +“To proceed. When we reached Gibraltar, Lady Blanche and I visited the +rocks, and went over the bomb-proofs and the casemates together,—far +more dangerous places those little cells and dark passages to a man like +me, than ever they could become in the hottest fury of a siege. She took +such an interest in everything. There was not a mortar nor a piece of +ordnance she could afford to miss; and she would peep out from the +embrasures, and look down upon the harbor and the bay, with a fearlessness +that left me puzzled to think whether I were more terrified by her +intrepidity or charmed by the beauty of her instep. Again we went to sea; +but how I trembled at each sight of land, lest she should leave the ship +forever! At last, Malta came in view; and the same evening the boats were +lowered, for all had a desire to go ashore. Of course Lady Blanche was +most anxious; her health had latterly improved greatly, and she was able +to incur considerable fatigue, without feeling the worse afterwards. +</p> +<p> +“It was a calm, mellow evening, with an already risen moon, as we landed +to wander about the narrow streets and bastioned dwellings of old +Valletta. She took my arm, and, followed by Mademoiselle Virginie, we went +on exploring every strange and curious spot before us, and calling up +before our mind’s eye the ancient glories of the place. I was rather +strong in all these sort of things, Mr. Tramp; for in expectation of this +little visit, I made myself up about the Knights of St. John and the +Moslems, Fort St Elmo, Civita Vecchia, rocks, catacombs, prickly pears, +and all. In fact, I was primed with the whole catalogue, which, written +down in short memoranda, forms Chap. I. in a modern tour-book of the +Mediterranean. The season was so genial, and the moon so bright, that we +lingered till past midnight, and then returned to the ship the last of all +the visitors. That was indeed a night, as, flickered by the column of +silver light, we swept over the calm sea. Lady Blanche, wrapped in my +large boat-cloak, her pale features statue-like in their unmoved beauty, +sat in the stern; I sat at her side. Neither spoke a word. What her +thoughts might have been I cannot guess; but the little French maid looked +at me from time to time with an expression of diabolical intelligence I +cannot forget; and as I handed her mistress up the gangway, Virginie said +in a whisper,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, Monsieur Yellowley, <i>vous êtes un homme dangereux!</i>’ +</p> +<p> +“Would you believe it, Mr. Tramp, that little phrase filled every chamber +of my heart with hope; there could be but one interpretation of it, and +what a meaning had that,—dangerous to the peace of mind, to the +heart’s happiness of her I actually adored! I lay down in my berth and +tried to sleep; but the nearest approach of slumber was a dreamy +condition, in which the words <i>vous êtes un homme dangereux</i> kept +ever ringing. I thought I saw Lady Blanche dressed in white, with a veil +covering her, a chaplet of orange flowers on her brow, and weeping as +though inconsolably; and there was a grim, mischievous little face that +nodded at me with a menacing expression, as though to say, ‘This is your +work, Simon Yellowley;’ and then I saw her lay aside the veil and encircle +herself with a sad-colored garment, while her tears fell even faster than +before; and then the little vixen from the window exclaimed, ‘Here’s more +of it, Simon Yellowley.’ Lord, how I reproached myself,—I saw I was +bringing her to the grave; yes, sir, there is no concealing it. I <i>felt</i> +she loved me. I arose and put on my dressing-gown; my mind was made up. I +slipped noiselessly up the cabin-stairs, and with much difficulty made my +way to that part of the ship inhabited by the servants. I will not recount +here the insolent allusions I encountered, nor the rude jests and jibes of +the sailors when I asked for Mademoiselle Virginie; nor was it without +trouble and considerable delay that I succeeded in obtaining an interview +with her. +</p> +<p> +“‘Mademoiselle,’ said I, ‘I know the levity of your nation; no man is more +conscious than I of—of the frailty of your moral principles. Don’t +be angry, but hear me out. You said a few minutes ago that I was a +“dangerous man;” tell me now, sincerely, truthfully, and candidly,’—here +I put rather a heavy purse into her hands,—‘the exact meaning you +attached to these words.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, Monsieur,’ said she, with a stage shudder, ‘<i>je suis une pauvre +fille, ne me perdez pas</i>.’ +</p> +<p> +“I looked at the little wizened devil, and never felt stronger in my +virtue. +</p> +<p> +“‘Don’t be afraid, Virginie, I’m an archbishop in principles; but I +thought that when you said these words they bore an allusion to another—’ +</p> +<p> +“‘<i>Ah! c’est ça,</i>’ said she, with perfect <i>naïveté</i>,—‘so +you are, a dangerous man, a very dangerous man; so much so, indeed, that I +shall use all my influence to persuade one, of whom you are aware, to +escape as quickly as may be from the hazard of your fascinating society.’ +</p> +<p> +“I repeat these words, Mr. Tramp, which may appear to you now too +flattering; but the French language, in which Virginie spoke, permits +expressions even stronger than these, as mere conventionalities. +</p> +<p> +“‘Don’t do it,’ said I, ‘don’t do it, Virginie.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I must, and I will,’ reiterated she; ‘there’s such a change in my poor +dear Lady Blanche since she met you; I never knew her give way to fits of +laughing before,—she’s so capricious and whimsical,—she was an +angel formerly.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘She is an angel still,’ said I, with a frown, for I would not suffer so +much of aspersion against her. +</p> +<p> +“‘<i>Sans doute</i>,’ chimed in Virginie, with a shrug of her shoulders, +‘we are all angels, after a fashion;’ and I endeavored to smile a +concurrence with this sentiment, in which I only half assented. +</p> +<p> +“By wonderful skill and cross-questioning, I at last obtained the +following information: Lady Blanche was on a voyage of health, intending +to visit the remarkable places in the Mediterranean, and then winter at +some chosen spot upon its shores. Why she journeyed thus unprotected, was +a secret there was no fathoming by indirect inquiry, and any other would +have been an act of indelicacy. +</p> +<p> +“‘We will pass the winter at Naples, or Palermo, or Jerusalem, or some +other watering-place,’ said Virginie, for her geography was, after all, +only a lady’s-maid’s accomplishment. +</p> +<p> +“‘You must persuade her to visit Egypt, Virginie,’ said I,—‘Egypt, +Virginie,—the land of the Pyramids. Induce her to do this, and to +behold the wonders of the strangest country in the universe. Even now,’ +said I, ‘Arab life—’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, <i>oui</i>. I have seen the Arabs at the Vaudeville; they have +magnificent beards.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘The handsomest men in the world.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘<i>Pas mal</i>,’ said she, with a sententious nod there’s no converting +into words. +</p> +<p> +“‘Well, Virginie, think of Cairo, think of Bagdad. You have read the +Arabian Nights—have n’t you?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes,’ said she, with a yawn, ‘they are <i>passées</i>; now, what would +you have us do in this droll old place?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I would have you to visit Mehemet Ali, and be received at his court!’ +—for I saw at once the class of fascination she would yield to. +‘Drink sherbet, eat sweetmeats, receive presents, magnificent presents, +cashmeres, diamond bracelets. Ah! think of that.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah! there is something in what you say,’ said she, after a pause; ‘but +we have not come prepared for such an expensive journey. I am +purse-bearer, for Lady Blanche knows nothing about expense, and we shall +not receive remittances until we settle somewhere for the winter.’ +</p> +<p> +“These words made my heart leap; in five minutes more I explained to +Virginie that I was provided with a free transit through the East, in +which, by her aid, her mistress might participate, without ever knowing +it. ‘You have only to pretend, Virginie, that Egypt is so cheap; tell her +a camel only costs a penny a league, and that one is actually paid for +crossing the Great Desert; you can hint that old Mehemet wants to bring +the thing into fashion, and that he would give his beard to see English +ladies travelling that route.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I knew it well,’ said Virginie, with a malicious smile,—‘I knew it +well; you are “a dangerous man.”’ +</p> +<p> +“All the obstacles and impediments she could suggest, I answered with much +skill and address, not unaided, I own, by certain potent persuasives, in +the shape of bank paper,—she was a most mercenary little devil; and +as day was breaking, Virginie had fully agreed in all my plans, and +determined that her mistress should go beyond ‘the second cataract,’ if I +wished it. I need not say that she fully understood my motives; she was a +Frenchwoman, Mr. Tramp; the Russian loves train oil, the Yankee prefers +whittling, but a Frenchwoman, without an intrigue of her own, or some +one’s else, on hand, is the most miserable object in existence. +</p> +<p> +“‘I see where it all will end,’ cried she, as I turned to leave her; ‘I +see it already. Before six weeks are over, you will not ask <i>my</i> aid +to influence my mistress.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Do you think so, Virginie?’ said I, grasping at the suggestion. +</p> +<p> +“‘Of course I do,’ said she, with a look of undisguised truth; ‘<i>ah, que +vous êtes un homme dangereux!</i>’ +</p> +<p> +“It is a strange thing, Mr. Tramp, but I felt that title a prouder one +than if I had been called the Governor of Bombay. Varied and numerous as +the incidents of my life had been, I never knew till then that I was a +dangerous man; nor, indeed, do I believe that, in the previous +constitution of my mind, I should have relished the epithet; but I hugged +it now as the symbol of my happiness. The whole of the following day was +spent by me in company with Lady Blanche. I expatiated on the glories of +the East, and discussed everybody who had been there, from Abraham down to +Abercromby. What a multiplicity of learning, sacred and profane, did I not +pour forth,—I perfectly astounded her with the extent of my +information, for, as I told you before, I was strong on Egypt, filling up +every interstice with a quotation from Byron, or a bit of Lalla Rookh, or +a stray verse from the Palm Leaves, which I invariably introduced as a +little thing of my own; then I quoted Herodotus, Denon, and Lamartine, +without end—till before the dinner was served, I had given her such +a journey in mere description, that she said with a sigh,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Really, Mr. Yellowley, you have been so eloquent that I actually feel as +much fatigued as if I had spent a day on a camel.’ +</p> +<p> +“I gave her a grateful look, Mr. Tramp, and she smiled in return; from +that hour, sir, we understood each other. I pursued my Egyptian studies +nearly the entire of that night, and the next day came on deck, with four +chapters of Irby and Mangles off by heart. My head swam round with ideas +of things Oriental,—patriarchs and pyramids, Turks, dragomans, +catacombs, and crocodiles, danced an infernal quadrille in my excited +brain, and I convulsed the whole cabin at breakfast, by replying to the +captain’s offer of some tea, with a profound salaam, and an exclamation of +‘<i>Bish millah, allah il allah</i>.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘You have infatuated me with your love of the East, Mr. Yellowley,’ said +Lady Blanche, one morning, as she met me. ‘I have been thinking over poor +Princess Shezarade and Noureddin, and the little tailor of Bagdad, and the +wicked Cadi, and all the rest of them.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Have I,’ cried I, joyfully; ‘have I indeed!’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I feel I must see the Pyramids,’ said she. ‘I cannot resist an impulse +on which my thoughts are concentrated, and yours be all the blame of this +wilful exploit.’ +</p> +<p> +“’ Yes,’ said I. +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +“’ T is hard at some appointed place +To check your course and turn your prow, +And objects for themselves retrace +You past with added hope just now.’ +</pre> +<p> +“‘Yours,’ said she, smilingly. +</p> +<p> +“‘A poor thing,’ said I, ‘I did for one of the Keepsakes.’ +</p> +<p> +“Ah, Mr. Tramp, it is very hard to distinguish one’s own little verse from +the minor poets. All my life I have been under the delusion that I wrote +‘O’Connor’s Child,’ and the ‘Battle of the Baltic;’ and, now I think of +it, those lines are Monckton Milnes’s. +</p> +<p> +“We reached Alexandria a few days after, and at once joined the great +concourse of passengers bound for the East. +</p> +<p> +“I perceive you are looking at your watch, Mr. Tramp.” + </p> +<p> +“I must indeed ask your pardon. I sail for Calais at the next ebb.” + </p> +<p> +“I shall not be tedious now, sir. We began ‘the overland,’—the angel +travelling as Lady Blanche Yellowley, to avoid any possible inquiry or +impertinence from the official people. This was arranged between Virginie +and myself, without her knowledge. Then, indeed, began my Arabian nights. +Ah, Mr. Tramp, you never can know the happiness enjoyed by him who, +travelling for fourteen long hours over the hot sand, and beneath the +scorching sun of the desert, comes at last to stretch his wearied limbs +upon his carpet at evening, and gazes on celestial beauty as he sips his +mocha. Mahomet had a strong case, depend upon it, when he furnished his +paradise with a houri and a hubble-bubble; and such nights were these, as +we sat and chatted over the once glories of that great land, while in the +lone khan of the desert would be heard the silvery sounds of a fair +woman’s voice, as she sung some little barcarole, or light Venetian +canzonette. Ah, Mr. Tramp, do you wonder if I loved—do you wonder if +I confessed my love? I did both, sir,—ay, sir, both. +</p> +<p> +“I told her my heart’s secret in an impassioned moment, and, with the +enthusiasm of true affection, explained my position and my passion. +</p> +<p> +“‘I am your slave,’ said I, with trembling adoration,—‘<i>your</i> +slave, and the Secretary at Santancantantarabad. <i>You</i> own my heart. +<i>I</i> possess nothing but a Government situation and three thousand per +annum. I shall never cease to love you, and my widow must have a pension +from the Company.’ +</p> +<p> +“She covered her face with her handkerchief as I spoke, and her sobs—they +must have been sobs—actually penetrated my bosom. +</p> +<p> +“‘You must speak of this no more, dear Mr. Yellowley,’ said she, wiping +her eyes; ‘you really must not, at least until I arrive at Calcutta.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘So you consent to go that far,’ cried I, in ecstasy. +</p> +<p> +“She seemed somewhat confused at her own confession, for she blushed and +turned away; then said, in a voice of some hesitation,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Will you compel me to relinquish the charm of your too agreeable +society, or will you make me the promise I ask?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Anything—everything,’ exclaimed I; and from that hour, Mr. Tramp, +I only <i>looked</i> my love, at least, save when sighs and interjections +contributed their insignificant aid. +</p> +<p> +I gave no expression to my consuming flame. Not the less progress, +perhaps, did I make for that. You can educate a feature, sir, to do the +work of four,—I could after a week or ten days look fifty different +things, and she knew them,—ay, that she did, as though it were a +book open before her. +</p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/610.jpg" width="100%" alt="610 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +“I could have strained my eyes to see through the canvas of a tent, Mr. +Tramp, if she were inside of it. And she, had you but seen <i>her</i> +looks! what archness and what softness,—how piquant, yet how +playful,—what witchcraft and what simplicity! I must hasten on. We +arrived within a day of our journey’s end. The next morning showed us the +tall outline of Fort William against the sky. The hour was approaching in +which I might declare my love, and declare it with some hope of a return!” + </p> +<p> +“Mr. Tramp,” said a waiter, hurriedly, interrupting Mr. Yellowley at this +crisis of his tale, “Captain Smithet, of the ‘Hornet,’ says he has the +steam up and will start in ten minutes.” + </p> +<p> +“Bless my heart,” cried I; “this is a hasty summons;” while snatching up +my light travelling portmanteau, I threw my cloak over my shoulders at +once. +</p> +<p> +“You ‘ll not go before I conclude my story,” cried Mr. Yellowley, with a +voice of indignant displeasure. +</p> +<p> +“I regret it deeply, sir,” said I, “from my very heart; but I am the +bearer of government despatches for Vienna; they are of the greatest +consequence,—delay would be a ruinous matter.” + </p> +<p> +“I ‘ll go down with you to the quay,” cried Yellowley, seizing my arm; and +we turned into the street together. It was still blowing a gale of wind, +and a heavy sleet was drifting in our faces, so that he was compelled to +raise his voice to a shout, to become audible. +</p> +<p> +“‘We are near Calcutta, dearest Lady Blanche,’ said I; ‘in a moment more +we shall be no longer bound by your pledge’—do you hear me, Mr. +Tramp?” + </p> +<p> +“Perfectly; but let us push along faster.” + </p> +<p> +“She was in tears, sir,—weeping. She is mine, thought I. What a +night, to be sure! We drove into the grand Cassawaddy; and the door of our +conveyance was wrenched open by a handsome-looking fellow, all gold and +moustaches. +</p> +<p> +“‘Blanche—my dearest Blanche!’ said he. +</p> +<p> +“‘My own Charles!’ exclaimed she.” + </p> +<p> +“Her brother, I suppose, Mr. Yellowley?” + </p> +<p> +“No, sir,” screamed he, “her husband!!!” + </p> +<p> +“The artful, deceitful, designing woman had a husband!” screamed +Yellowley, above the storm and the hurricane. “They had been married +privately, Mr. Tramp, the day he sailed for India, and she only waited for +the next ‘overland’ to follow him out; and I, sir, the miserable dupe, +stood there, the witness of their joys. +</p> +<p> +“‘Don’t forget this dear old creature, Charles,’ said she: ‘he was +invaluable to me on the journey!’ But I rushed from the spot, anguish-torn +and almost desperate.” + </p> +<p> +“Come quickly, sir; we must catch the ebb-tide,” cried a sailor, pushing +me along towards the jetty as he spoke. +</p> +<p> +“My misfortunes were rife,” screamed Yellowley, in my ear. “The Rajah to +whose court I was appointed had offended Lord Ellenborough, and it was +only the week before I arrived that his territory bad been added to +‘British India,’ as they call it, and the late ruler accommodated with +private apartments in Calcutta, and three hundred a year for life; so that +I had nothing to do but come home again. Good-bye,—good-bye, sir.” + </p> +<p> +“Go on,” cried the captain from the paddle-box; and away we splashed, in a +manner far more picturesque to those on land than pleasant to us on board, +while high above the howling wind and rattling cordage came Yellowley +voice,—“Don’t forget it, Mr. Tramp, don’t forget it! Asleep or +awake, never trust them!” + </p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/612.jpg" width="100%" alt="612 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +THE ROAD VERSUS THE RAILS <a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/613.jpg" width="100%" alt="613 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +Although the steam-engine itself is more naturalized amongst us than with +any other nation of Europe, railroad travelling has unquestionably +outraged more of the associations we once cherished and were proud of, +than it could possibly effect in countries of less rural and picturesque +beauty than England. “La Belle France” is but a great cornfield,—in +winter a dreary waste of yellow soil, in autumn a desert of dried stubble; +Belgium is only a huge cabbage-garden,—flat and fetid; Prussia, a +sandy plain, dotted with sentry-boxes. To traverse these, speed is the +grand requisite; there is little to remark, less to admire. The sole +object is to push forward; and when one remembers the lumbering diligence +and its eight buffaloes, the rail is a glorious alternative. +</p> +<p> +In England, however, rural scenery is eminently characterized. The cottage +of the peasant enshrined in honeysuckle, the green glade, the rich and +swelling champaign, the quaint old avenues leading to some ancient hall, +the dark glen, the shining river, follow each other in endless succession, +suggesting so many memories of our people, and teeming with such +information of their habits, tastes, and feelings. There was something +distinctive, too, in that well-appointed coach, with its four blood bays, +tossing their heads with impatience, as they stood before the village inn, +waiting for the passengers to breakfast. I loved every jingle of the brass +housings; the flap of the traces, and the bang of the swingle-bar, were +music to my ears; and what a character was he who wrapped his great drab +coat around his legs, and gathered up the reins with that careless +indolence that seemed to say, “The beasts have no need of guidance,—they +know what they are about!” The very leer of his merry eye to the buxom +figure within the bar was a novel in three volumes; and mark how lazily he +takes the whip from the fellow that stands on the wheel, proud of such a +service; and hear him, as he cries, “All right, Bill, let ‘em go!”—and +then mark the graceful curls of the long lash, as it plays around the +leaders’ flanks, and makes the skittish devils bound ere they are touched. +And now we go careering along the mountain-side, where the breeze is fresh +and the air bracing, with a wide-spread country all beneath us, across +which the shadows are moving like waves. Again, we move along some narrow +road, overhung with trees, rich in perfumed blossoms, which fall in +showers over us as we pass; the wheels are crushing the ripe apples as +they lie uncared for; and now we are in a deep glen, dark and shady, where +only a straggling sunbeam comes; and see, where the road opens, how the +rabbits play, nor are scared at our approach! Ha, merry England! there are +sights and sounds about you to warm a man’s heart, and make him think of +home. +</p> +<p> +It was but a few days since I was seated in one of the cheap carriages of +a southern line, when this theme was brought forcibly to my mind by +overhearing a dialogue between a wagoner and his wife. The man, in all the +pride and worldliness of his nature, would see but the advantages of rapid +transit, where the poor woman saw many a change for the worse,—all +the little incidents and adventures of a pleasant journey being now +superseded by the clock-work precision of the rail, the hissing engine, +and the lumbering train. +</p> +<p> +Long after they had left the carriage, I continued to dwell upon the words +they had spoken; and as I fell asleep, they fashioned themselves into rude +measure, which I remembered on awaking, and have called it— +</p> +<p> +THE SONG OF THE THIRD-CLASS TRAIN. +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +WAGONER. +Time was when with the dreary load +We slowly journeyed on, +And measured every mile of road +Until the day was gone; +Along the worn and rutted way, +When morn was but a gleam, +And with the last faint glimpse of day +Still went the dreary team. +But no more now to earth we bow! +Our insect life is past; +With furnace gleam, and hissing steam, +Our speed is like the blast +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +WIFE. +I mind it well,—I loved it too, +Full many a happy hour, +When o’er our heads the blossoms grew +That made the road a bower. +With song of birds, and pleasant sound +Of voices o’er the lea, +And perfume rising from the ground +Fresh turned by labor free. +And when the night, star-lit and bright, +Closed in on all around, +Nestling to rest, upon my breast +My boy was sleeping sonnd. +His mouth was moved, as tho’ it provtd +That even in his dream +He grasped the whip—his tiny lip +Would try to guide the team. +Oh, were not these the days to please! +Were we not happy so? +The woman said. He hung his head, +And still he muttered low: +But no more now to earth we bow, +Our insect life is past; +With furnace gleam, and hissing steam, +Our speed is like the blast.” + </pre> +<p> +“I wish I had a hundred pounds to argue the question on either side,” as +Lord Plunkett said of a Chancery case; for if we have lost much of the +romance of the road, as it once existed, we have certainly gained +something in the strange and curious views of life presented by railroad +travelling; and although there was more of poetry in the pastoral, the +broad comedy of a journey is always amusing. The caliph who once sat on +the bridge of Bagdad, to observe mankind, and choose his dinner-party from +the passers-by, would unquestionably have enjoyed a far wider scope for +his investigation, had he lived in our day, and taken out a subscription +ticket for the Great Western or the Grand Junction. A peep into the +several carriages of a train is like obtaining a section of society; for, +like the view of a house, when the front wall is removed, we can see the +whole economy of the dwelling, from the kitchen to the garret; and while +the grand leveller, steam, is tugging all the same road, at the same pace, +subjecting the peer to every shock it gives the peasant, individual +peculiarities and class observances relieve the uniformity of the scene, +and afford ample opportunity for him who would read while he runs. Short +of royalty, there is no one nowadays may not be met with “on the rail;” + and from the Duke to Daniel O’Connell—a pretty long interval—your +<i>vis-à-vis</i> may be any illustrious character in politics, literature, +or art. I intend, in some of these tales, to make mention of some of the +most interesting characters it has been my fortune to encounter; meanwhile +let me make a note of the most singular railroad traveller of whom I have +ever heard, and to the knowledge of whom I accidentally came when +travelling abroad. The sketch I shall call— +</p> +<p> +<a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> +<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> +</p> +<div style="height: 4em;"> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> +<h2> +THE EARLY TRAIN TO VERSAILLES. +</h2> +<p> +“Droll people one meets travelling,—strange characters!” was the +exclamation of my next neighbor in the Versailles train, as an oddly +attired figure, with an enormous beard, and a tall Polish cap, got out at +Sèvres; and this, of all the railroads in Europe, perhaps, presents the +most motley array of travellers. The “militaire,” the shopkeeper, the +actor of a minor theatre, the economist Englishman residing at Versailles +for cheapness, the “modiste,” the newspaper writer, are all to be met +with, hastening to and from this favorite resort of the Parisians; and +among a people so communicative, and so well disposed to social +intercourse, it is rare that even in this short journey the conversation +does not take a character of amusement, if not of actual interest. +</p> +<p> +“The last time I went down in this train it was in company with M. Thiers; +and, I assure you, no one could be more agreeable and affable,” said one. +</p> +<p> +“Horace Vernet was my companion last week,” remarked another; “indeed I +never guessed who it was, until a chance observation of mine about one of +his own pictures, when he avowed his name.” + </p> +<p> +“I had a more singular travelling-companion still,” exclaimed a third; “no +less a personage than Aboul Djerick, the Arab chief, whom the Marshal +Bugeaud took prisoner.” + </p> +<p> +“<i>Ma foi!</i> gentlemen,” said a dry old lady from the corner of the +carriage, “these were not very remarkable characters, after all. I +remember coming down here with—what do you think?—for my +fellow-traveller. Only guess. But it is no use; you would never hit upon +it,—he was a baboon!” + </p> +<p> +“A baboon!” exclaimed all the party, in a breath. +</p> +<p> +“<i>Sacrebleu!</i> Madame, you must be jesting.” + </p> +<p> +“No, gentlemen, nothing of the kind. He was a tall fellow, as big as M. le +Capitaine yonder; and he had a tail—<i>mon Dieu!</i> what a tail! +When the conductor showed him into the carriage, it took nearly a minute +to adjust that enormous tail.” + </p> +<p> +A very general roar of laughter met this speech, excited probably more by +the serious manner of the old lady as she mentioned this occurrence than +by anything even in the event itself, though all were unquestionably +astonished to account for the incident. +</p> +<p> +“Was he quiet, Madame?” said one of the passengers. +</p> +<p> +“Perfectly so,” replied she,—“<i>bien poli</i>.” + </p> +<p> +Another little outbreak of laughter at so singular a phrase, with +reference to the manners of an ape, disturbed the party. +</p> +<p> +“He had probably made his escape from the Jardin des Plantes,” cried a +thin old gentleman opposite. +</p> +<p> +“No, Monsieur; he lived in the Rue St. Denis.” + </p> +<p> +“<i>Diable!</i>” exclaimed a lieutenant; “he was a good citizen of Paris. +Was he in the Garde Nationale, Madame?” + </p> +<p> +“I am not sure,” said the old lady, with a most provoking coolness. +</p> +<p> +“And where was he going, may I ask?” cried another. +</p> +<p> +“To Versailles, Monsieur,—poor fellow, he wept very bitterly.” + </p> +<p> +“Detestable beast!” exclaimed the old gentleman; “they make a horrid +mockery of humanity.” + </p> +<p> +“Ah! very true, Monsieur; there is a strong resemblance between the two +species.” There was an unlucky applicability in this speech to the +hook-nose, yellow-skinned, wrinkled little fellow it was addressed to, +that once more brought a smile upon the party. +</p> +<p> +“Was there no one with him, then? Who took care of him, Madame?” + </p> +<p> +“He was alone, Monsieur. The poor fellow was a ‘<i>garçon</i>;’ he told me +so himself.” + </p> +<p> +“Told you so!—the ape told you!—the baboon said that!” + exclaimed each in turn of the party, while an outburst of laughter filled +the carriage. +</p> +<p> +“‘T is quite true,—just as I have the honor to tell you,” said the +old lady, with the utmost gravity; “and although I was as much surprised +as you now are, when he first addressed me, he was so well-mannered, spoke +such good French, and had so much agreeability that I forgot my fears, and +enjoyed his society very much.” + </p> +<p> +It was not without a great effort that the party controlled themselves +sufficiently to hear the old lady’s explanation. The very truthfulness of +her voice and accent added indescribably to the absurdity; for while she +designated her singular companion always as M. le Singe, she spoke of him +as if he had been a naturalized Frenchman, born to enjoy all the +inestimable privileges of “La Belle France.” Her story was this—but +it is better, as far as may be, to give it in her own words:— +</p> +<p> +“My husband, gentlemen, is greffier of the Correctional Court of Paris; +and although obliged, during the session, to be every day at the Tribunal, +we reside at Versailles, for cheapness, using the railroad to bring us to +and from Paris. Now, it chanced that I set out from Paris, where I had +spent the night at a friend’s house, by the early train, which, you know, +starts at five o’clock. Very few people travel by that train; indeed, I +believe the only use of it is to go down to Versailles to bring up people +from thence. It was a fine cheery morning—cold, but bright—in +the month of March, as I took my place alone in one of the carriages of +the train. After the usual delay (they are never prompt with this train), +the word ‘En route’ was given, and we started; but before the pace was +accelerated to a rapid rate, the door was wrenched open by the +‘conducteur’—a large full-grown baboon, with his tail over his arm, +stepped in—the door closed, and away we went. Ah! gentlemen, I never +shall forget that moment. The beast sat opposite me, just like Monsieur +there, with his old parchment face, his round brown eyes, and his +long-clawed paws, which he clasped exactly like a human being. <i>Mon +Dieu!</i> what agony was mine! I had seen these creatures in the Jardin +des Plantes, and knew them to be so vicious; but I thought the best thing +to do was to cultivate the monster’s good graces, and so I put my hand in +my reticule and drew forth a morsel of cake, which I presented to him. +</p> +<p> +“‘<i>Merci, Madame</i>,’ said he, with a polite bow, ‘I am not hungry.’ +</p> +<p> +“Ah! when I heard him say this, I thought I should have died. The beast +spoke it as plain as I am speaking to you; and he bowed his yellow face, +and made a gesture of his hand, if I may call it a hand, just this way. +Whether he remarked my astonishment, or perceived that I looked ill, I +can’t say; but he observed in a very gentle tone,— +</p> +<p> +“‘Madame is fatigued.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah! Monsieur,’ said I, ‘I never knew that you spoke French.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘<i>Oui, parbleu!</i>’ said he, ‘I was born in the Pyrenees, and am only +half a Spaniard.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Monsieur’s father, then,’ said I, ‘was he a Frenchman?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘<i>Pauvre bête</i>,’ said he; ‘he was from the Basque Provinces. He was +a wild fellow.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I have no doubt of it,’ said I; ‘but it seems they caught him at last.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘You are right, Madame. Strange enough you should have guessed it. He was +taken in Estremadura, where he joined a party of brigands. They knew my +father by his queue; for, amid all his difficulties, nothing could induce +him to cut it off.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I don’t wonder,’ said I; ‘it would have been very painful.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘It would have made his heart bleed, Madame, to touch a hair of it. He +was proud of that old queue; and he might well be,—it was the +best-looking tail in the North of Spain.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Bless my heart,’ thought I, ‘these creatures have their vanities too.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, Madame, we had more freedom in those days. My father used to tell me +of the nights he has passed on the mountains, under the shade, or +sometimes in the branches of the cork-trees, with pleasant companions, +fellows of his own stamp. We were not hunted down then, as we are now; +there was liberty then.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Well, for my part,’ said I, ‘I should not dislike the Jardin des +Plantes, if I was like one of you. It ain’t so bad to have one’s meals at +regular times, and a comfortable bed, and a good dry house.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I don’t know what you mean by the Jardin des Plantes. I live in the Rue +St. Denis, and I for one feel the chain about my ankles, under this vile +<i>régime</i> we live in at present.’ +</p> +<p> +“He had managed to slip it off this time, anyhow; for I saw the creature’s +legs were free. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, Madame,’ exclaimed Le Singe, slapping his forehead with his paw, +‘men are but rogues, cheats, and swindlers.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Are apes better?’ said I, modestly. +</p> +<p> +“‘I protest I think they are,’ said he. ‘Except a propensity to petty +pilfering, they are honest beasts.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘They are most affectionate,’ said I, wishing to flatter him; but he took +no notice of the observation. +</p> +<p> +“‘Madame,’ exclaimed he, after a pause, and with a voice of unusual +energy, ‘I was so near being caught in a trap this very morning.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Dear me,’ said I, ‘and they laid a trap for you?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘An infernal trap,’ said he. ‘A mistake might have cost me my liberty for +life. Do you know M. Laborde, the director of the Gymnase?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ihave heard of him, but no more.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘What a “fripon” he is! There is not such a scoundrel living; but I ‘ll +have him yet. Let him not think to escape me! Pardon, Madame, does my tail +inconvenience you?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Not at all, sir. Pray don’t stir.’ +</p> +<p> +“I must say that, in his excitement, the beast whisked the appendage to +and fro with his paw in a very furious manner. +</p> +<p> +“‘Only conceive, Madame, I have passed the night in the open air; hunted, +chased, pursued,—all on account of the accursed M. Laborde. I that +was reared in a warm climate, brought up in every comfort, and habituated +to the most tender care,—exposed, during six hours, to the damp dews +of a night in the Bois de Boulogne. I know it will fall on my chest, or I +shall have an attack of rheumatism. Ah, <i>mon Dieu!</i> if I shouldn’t be +able to climb and jump, it would be better for me to be dead.’ +</p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/622.jpg" width="100%" alt="622 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +“‘No, no,’ said I, trying to soothe him, ‘don’t say that. Here am I, very +happy and contented, and could n’t spring over a street gutter if you gave +me the Tuileries for doing it.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘"What has that to say to it?’ cried he, fiercely. ‘Our instincts and +pursuits are very different.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes, thank God,’ muttered I, below my breath, ‘I trust they are.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘You live at Versailles,’ said he, suddenly. ‘Do you happen to know +Antoine Geoffroy, greffier of the Tribunal?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes, <i>parbleu!</i>’ said I; ‘he is my husband.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Oh, Madame! what good fortune! He is the only man in France can assist +me. I want him to catch M. Laborde. When can I see him?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘He will be down in the ten o’clock train,’ said I. ‘You can see him +then, Rue du Petit Lait.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, but where shall I lie concealed till then? If they should overtake +me and catch me,—if they found me out, I should be ruined.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Come with me, then. I ‘ll hide you safe enough.’ +</p> +<p> +“The beast fell on its knees, and kissed my hand like a Christian, and +muttered his gratitude till we reached the station. +</p> +<p> +“Early as it was—only six o’clock—I confess I did not half +like the notion of taking the creature’s arm, which he offered me, as we +got out; but I was so fearful of provoking him, knowing their vindictive +nature, that I assented with as good a grace as I was able; and away we +went, he holding his tail festooned over his wrist, and carrying my +carpet-bag in the other hand. So full was he of his anger against M. +Laborde, and his gratitude to me, that he could talk of nothing else as we +went along, nor did he pay the slightest attention to the laughter and +jesting our appearance excited from the workmen who passed by. +</p> +<p> +“‘Madame has good taste in a cavalier,’ cried one. +</p> +<p> +“‘There ‘ll be a reward for that fellow to-morrow or next day,’ cried +another. +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes, yes,—he is the biggest in the whole Jardin des Plantes,’ said +a third. +</p> +<p> +“Such were the pleasant commentaries that met my ears, even at that quiet +hour. +</p> +<p> +“When we reached the Rue du Petit Lait, however, a very considerable crowd +followed us, consisting of laborers and people on their way to work; and I +assure you I repented me sorely of the good nature that had exposed me to +such consequences; for the mob pressed us closely, many being curious to +examine the creature near, and some even going so far as to pat him with +their hands, and take up the tip of his tail in their fingers. The beast, +however, with admirable tact, never spoke a word, but endured the +annoyance without any signs of impatience,—hoping, of course, that +the house would soon screen him from their view; but only think of the bad +luck. When we arrived at the door, we rung and rung, again and again, but +no one came. In fact, the servant, not expecting me home before noon, had +spent the night at a friend’s house; and there we were, in the open +street, with a crowd increasing every moment around us. +</p> +<p> +“‘What is to be done?’ said I, in utter despair; but before I had even +uttered the words, the beast disengaged himself from me, and, springing to +the ‘jalousies,’ scrambled his way up to the top of them. In a moment more +he was in the window of the second story, and then, again ascending in the +same way, reached the third, the mob hailing him with cries of ‘Bravo, +Singe!—well done, ape!—mind your tail, old fellow!—that’s +it, monkey!’—and so on, until with a bound he sprung in through an +open window, and then, popping out his head, and with a gesture of little +politeness, made by his outstretched fingers on his nose, he cried out, +‘Messieurs, j’ai l’honneur de vous saluer.’ +</p> +<p> +“If every beast in the Jardin des Plantes, from the giraffe down to the +chimpanzee, had spoken, the astonishment could not have been more general; +at first the mob were struck mute with amazement, but, after a moment, +burst forth into a roar of laughter. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah! I know that fellow,—I have paid twenty sons to see him before +now,’ cried one. +</p> +<p> +“‘So have I,’ said another; ‘and it’s rare fun to look at him cracking +nuts, and swinging himself on the branch of a tree by his tail.’ +</p> +<p> +“At this moment the door opened, and I slipped in without hearing farther +of the commentaries of the crowd. In a little time the servant returned, +and prepared the breakfast; and although, as you may suppose, I was very +ignorant what was exactly the kind of entertainment to set before my +guest, I got a great dish of apples and a plate of chestnuts, and down we +sat to our meal. +</p> +<p> +“‘That was a ring at the door, I think,’ said he; and as he spoke, my +husband entered the room. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah! you here?’ cried he, addressing M. le Singe. +</p> +<p> +‘<i>Parbleu!</i> there’s a pretty work in Paris about you,—it is all +over the city this morning that you are off.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘And the Director?’ said the ape. +</p> +<p> +“‘The old bear, he is off too.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘So, thought I to myself,—’ ‘it would appear the other beasts have +made their escape too.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Then, I suppose,’ said the ape, ‘there will be no catching him.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘I fear not,’ said my husband; ‘but if they do succeed in overtaking the +old fox, they ‘ll have the skin off him.’ +</p> +<p> +“Cruel enough, thought I to myself, considering it was the creature’s +instinct. +</p> +<p> +“‘These, however, are the orders of the Court; and when you have signed +this one, I shall set off in pursuit of him at once.’ So said my husband, +as he produced a roll of papers from his pocket, which the ape perused +with the greatest avidity. +</p> +<p> +“‘He’ll be for crossing the water, I warrant.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘No doubt of it,’ said my husband. ‘France will be too hot for him for a +while.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Poor beast,’ said I, ‘he’ll be happier in his native snows.’ +</p> +<p> +“At this they both laughed heartily; and the ape signed his name to the +papers, and brushed the sand over them with the tip of his tail. +</p> +<p> +“‘We must get back to Paris at once,’ said he, ‘and in a coach too, for I +cannot have a mob after me again.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Leave that to me,’ said my husband. ‘I’ll see you safely home. Meanwhile +let me lend you a cloak and a hat;’ and, with these words, he dressed up +the creature so that when the collar was raised you would not have known +him from that gentleman opposite. +</p> +<p> +“‘Adieu,’ said he, ‘Madame,’ with a wave of his hand, ‘<i>au revoir</i>, I +hope, if it would give you any pleasure to witness our little performances—’ +</p> +<p> +“‘No, no,’ said I, ‘there’s a small creature goes about here, on an organ, +in a three-cornered cocked-hat and a red coat, and I can have him for half +an hour for two sous.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Votre serviteur, Madame,’ said he, with an angry whisk of his tail; for +although I did not intend it, the beast was annoyed at my remark. +</p> +<p> +“Away they went, Messieurs, and from that hour to this I never heard more +of the creature, nor of his companions; for my husband makes it a rule +never to converse on topics relating to his business,—and it seems +he was, somehow or other, mixed up in the transaction.” + </p> +<p> +“But, Madame,” cried one of the passengers, “you don’t mean to palm this +fable on us for reality, and make us believe something more absurd than +Æsop himself ever invented?” + </p> +<p> +“If it be only an impertinent allegory,” said the old gentleman opposite, +“I must say, it is in the worst possible taste.” + </p> +<p> +“Or if,” said a little white-faced fat man, with spectacles,—“or if +it be a covert attack upon the National Guard of Paris, as the corporal of +the 95th legion, of the 37th arrondissement, I repel the insinuation with +contempt.” + </p> +<p> +“Heaven forbid, gentlemen! The facts I have narrated are strictly true; my +husband can confirm them in every particular, and I have only to regret +that any trait in the ape’s character should suggest uncomfortable +recollections to yourselves.” + </p> +<p> +The train had now reached its destination, and the old lady got out, amid +the maledictions of some, and the stifled laughter of others of the +passengers,—for only one or two had shrewdness enough to perceive +that she was one of those good credulous souls who implicitly believed all +she had narrated, and whose judgment having been shaken by the miraculous +power of a railroad which converted the journey of a day into the trip of +an hour, could really have swallowed any other amount of the apparently +impossible it might be her fortune to meet with. +</p> +<p> +For the benefit of those who may not be as easy of belief as the good +Madame Geoffroy, let me add one word as the solution of this mystery. The +ape was no other than M. Gouffe, who, being engaged to perform as a monkey +in the afterpiece of “La Pérouse,” was actually cracking nuts in a tree, +when he learned from a conversation in “the flats,” that the director, M. +Laborde, had just made his escape with all the funds of the theatre, and +six months of M. Gouffe’s own salary. Several police-officers had already +gained access to the back of the stage, and were arresting the actors as +they retired. Poor Jocko had nothing for it, then, but to put his agility +to the test, and, having climbed to the top of the tree, he scrambled in +succession over the heads of several scenes, till he reached the back of +the stage, where, watching his opportunity, he descended in safety, rushed +down the stairs, and gained the street. By immense exertions he arrived at +the Bois de Boulogne, where he lay concealed until the starting of the +early train for Versailles. The remainder of his adventure the reader +already knows. +</p> +<p> +Satisfactory as this explanation may be to some, I confess I should be +sorry to make it, if I thought it would reach the eyes or ears of poor +Madame Geoffroy, and thus disabuse her of a pleasant illusion, and the +harmless gratification of recounting her story to others as unsuspecting +as herself. +</p> +<p> +<a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> +<!-- H2 anchor --> </a> +</p> +<div style="height: 4em;"> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> +<h2> +THE TUNNEL OF TRÜBAU. +</h2> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/628.jpg" width="100%" alt="628 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +Amblers have not more prejudices and superstitions than railroad +travellers. All the preferences for the winning places, the lucky pack, +the shuffling cut, &c., have their representatives among the +prevailing notions of those who “fly by steam.” + </p> +<p> +“I <i>always</i> sit with my back to the engine,” cries one. +</p> +<p> +“I <i>always</i> travel as far from the engine as possible,” exclaims +another. +</p> +<p> +“I <i>never</i> trust myself behind the luggage train,” adds a third. +</p> +<p> +“There ‘s nothing like a middle place,” whispers a fourth: and so on they +go; as if, when a collision does come, and the clanking monster has taken +an erratic fit, and eschews the beaten path, any precautions or +preferences availed in the slightest degree, or that it signified a snort +of the steam, whether you were flattened into a pancake, or blown up in +the shape of a human <i>soufflé</i>. “The Rail” is no Whig politician, no +“bit-by-bit” reformer. When a smash happens, skulls are as fragile as +saucers, and bones as brittle as Bohemian glass. The old “fast coach” + never killed any one but the timid gentleman that jumped off. To be sure, +it always dislocated the coachman’s shoulder; but then, from old habit of +being shot out, the bone rolled in again, like a game of cup and ball. The +insides and out scraped each other, swore fearful intentions against the +proprietors, and some ugly fellow took his action of damages for the loss +his prospects sustained by disfigurement. This was the whole extent of the +mishap. Not so now, when four hundred souls are dashed frantically +together and pelt heads at each other as people throw <i>bonbons</i> at a +carnival. +</p> +<p> +Steam has invented something besides fast travelling; and if it has +supplied a new method of getting through the world, it has also suggested +about twenty new ways of going out of it. Now, it’s the old story of the +down train and the up, both bent on keeping the same line of rails, and +courageously resolving to see which is the “better man,” a point which +must always remain questionable, as the umpires never survive. Again, it +is the engine itself, that, sick of straight lines, catches a fancy for +the waving ones of beauty, and sets out, full speed, over a fine grass +country, taking the fences as coolly as Allan M’Donough himself, and +caring just as little for what “comes behind:” these incidents being +occasionally varied by the train taking the sea or taking fire, either of +which has its own inconveniences, more likely to be imagined than +described. +</p> +<p> +I remember once hearing this subject fully discussed in a railroad +carriage, where certainly the individuals seemed amateurs in accidents, +every man having some story to relate or some adventure to recount, of the +grievous dangers of “The Rail.” I could not help questioning to myself the +policy of such revelations, so long as we journeyed within the range of +similar calamities; but somehow self-tormenting is a very human practice, +and we all indulged in it to the utmost. The narratives themselves had +their chief interest from some peculiarity in the mode of telling, or in +the look and manner of the recounter; all save one, which really had +features of horror all its own, and which were considerably heightened by +the simple but powerful style of him who told it. I feel how totally +incapable I am of conveying even the most distant imitation of his manner; +but the story, albeit neither complicated nor involved, I must repeat, +were it only as a reminiscence of a most agreeable fellow-traveller, Count +Henri de Beulivitz, the Saxon envoy at Vienna. +</p> +<p> +“I was,” says the Count—for so far I must imitate him, and speak in +the first person—“I was appointed special envoy to the Austrian +court about a year and a half since, under circumstances which required +the utmost despatch, and was obliged to set out the very day after +receiving my appointment. The new line of railroad from Dresden to Vienna +was only in progress, but a little below Prague the line was open, and by +travelling thither <i>en poste</i>, I should reach the Austrian capital +without loss of time. This I resolved on; and by the forenoon of the day +after, arrived at Trübau, where I placed my carriage on a truck, and +comfortably composed myself to rest, under the impression that I need +never stir till within the walls of Vienna. +</p> +<p> +“If you have ever travelled in this part of Europe, I need not remind you +of the sad change of prospect which ensues after you pass the Bohemian +frontier. Saxony, rich in picturesque beauty; the valley of the Elbe, in +many respects finer than the Rhine itself; the proud summit of the Bastey; +the rock-crowned fortress of Koenigstein,—are all succeeded by +monotonous tracts of dark forest, or still more dreary plains, disfigured, +not enlivened by villages of wretched hovels, poor, I have heard, as the +dwellings of the Irish peasant. What a contrast, too! the people, the +haggard faces and sallow cheeks of the swarthy Bohemian, with the blue eye +and ruddy looks of the Saxon! ‘Das Sachsenland wo die hübsche mädchen auf +die Baüme wachsen.’ Proud as I felt at the superiority of my native +country, I could not resist the depression, suggested by the monotony of +the scene before me, its dull uniformity, its hopeless poverty; and as I +sunk into a sleep, my dreams took the gloomy aspect of my waking thoughts, +gloomier, perhaps, because unrelieved by all effort of volition,—a +dark river unruffled by a single breeze. +</p> +<p> +“The perpetual bang! bang! of the piston has, in its reiterated stroke, +something diabolically terrible. It beats upon the heart with an +impression irresistibly solemn! I remember how in my dreams the +accessories of the train kept flitting round me, and I thought the +measured sounds were the clickings of some infernal clock, which meted out +time to legions of devils. I fancied them capering to and fro amid flame +and smoke, with shrieks, screams, and wild gestures. My brain grew hot +with excitement. I essayed to awake, but the very rocking of the train +steeped my faculties in a lethargy. At last, by a tremendous effort, I +cried out aloud, and the words broke the spell, and I awoke—dare I +call it awaking? I rubbed my eyes, pinched my arms, stamped with my feet; +alas! it was too true!—the reality announced itself to my senses. I +was there, seated in my carriage, amid a darkness blacker than the +blackest night. A low rumbling sound, as of far-distant thunder, had +succeeded to the louder bang of the engine. A dreadful suspicion flashed +on me,—it grew stronger with each second; and, ere a minute more, I +saw what had happened. The truck on which my carriage was placed had by +some accident become detached from the train; and while the other portion +of the train proceeded on its way, there was I, alone, deserted, and +forgotten, in the dark tunnel of Trübau,—for such I at once guessed +must be the dreary vault, unillumined by one ray of light or the +glimmering of a single lamp. Convictions, when the work of instinct rather +than reflection, have a stunning effect, that seems to arrest all thought, +and produce a very stagnation of the faculties. Mine were in this state. +As when, in the shock of battle, some terrible explosion, dealing death to +thousands at once, will appall the contending hosts, and make men aghast +with horror, so did my ideas become fixed and rooted to one horrible +object; and for some time I could neither think of the event nor calculate +on its consequences. Happy for me if the stupefaction continued! No +sooner, however, had my presence of mind returned, than I began to +anticipate every possible fatality that might occur. Death I knew it must +be, and what a death!—to be run down by the train for Prague, or +smashed by the advancing one from Olmutz. How near my fate might be, I +could not guess. I neither knew how long it was since I entered the +tunnel, nor at what hours the other trains started. They might be far +distant, or they might be near at hand. Near!—what was space when +such terrible power existed?—a league was the work of minutes—at +that very moment the furious engine might be rushing on! I thought of the +stoker stirring the red fire. I fancied I saw the smoke roll forth, +thicker and blacker, as the heat increased, and through my ears went the +thugging bang of the piston, quicker and quicker; and I screamed aloud in +my agony, and called out to them to stop! I must have swooned, for when +consciousness again came to me, I was still amid the silence and darkness +of the tunnel. I listened, and oh! with what terrible intensity the human +ear can strain its powers when the sounds awaited are to announce life or +death! The criminal in the dock, whose eyes are riveted in a glazy +firmness on him who shall speak his doom, drinks in the words ere they are +well uttered,—each syllable falls upon his heart as fatal to hope as +is the headsman’s axe to life. The accents are not human sounds; it is the +trumpet of eternity that fills his ears, and rings within his brain,—the +loud blast of the summoning angel calling him to judgment. +</p> +<p> +“Terrible as the thunder of coming destruction is, there is yet a sense +more fearfully appalling in the unbroken silence of the tomb,—the +stillness of death without its lethargy! Dreadful moment!—what +fearful images it can call up!—what pictures it can present before +the mind!—how fearfully reality may be blended with the fitful forms +of fancy, and fact be associated even with the impossible! +</p> +<p> +“I tried to persuade myself that the bounds of life were already past, and +that no dreadful interval of torture was yet before me; but this +consolation, miserable though it was, yielded as I touched the side of the +carriage, and felt the objects I so well knew. No; it was evident the +dreaded moment was yet to come,—the shocking ordeal was still to be +passed; and before I should sink into the sleep that knows not waking, +there must be endured the torture of a death-struggle, or, mayhap, the +lingering agony of protracted suffering. +</p> +<p> +“As if in a terrible compensation for the shortness of my time on earth, +minutes were dragged out to the space of years,—amid the terrors of +the present, I thought of the past and the future. The past, with its +varied fortune of good and ill, of joy and sorrow,—how did I review +it now! With what scrutiny did I pry into my actions, and call upon myself +to appear at the bar of my conscience! Had my present mission to Vienna +contained anything Machiavelic in its nature, I should have trembled with +the superstitious terror that my misfortune was a judgment of Heaven. But +no. It was a mere commonplace negotiation, of which time was the only +requisite. Even this, poor as it was, had some consolation in it,—I +should, at least, meet death without the horror of its being a punishment. +</p> +<p> +“I had often shuddered at the fearful narratives of people buried alive in +a trance, or walled up within the cell of a convent. How willingly would I +now have grasped at such an alternative! Such a fate would steal over +without the terrible moment of actual suffering,—the crash and the +death struggle! I fancied a thousand alleviating circumstances in the +dreamy lethargy of gradual dissolution. Then came the thought—and +how strange that such a thought should obtrude at such a time!—what +will be said of me hereafter?—how will the newspapers relate the +occurrence? Will they speculate on the agony of my anticipated doom?—will +they expatiate on all that I am now actually enduring? What will the +passengers in the train say, when the collision shall have taken place? +Will there be enough of me left to make investigation easy? How poor G———will +regret me! and I am sure he will never be seen in public till he has +invented a <i>bon mot</i> on my destiny. +</p> +<p> +“Again, I recurred to the idea of culpability, and asked myself whether +there might not be some contravention of the intentions of Providence by +this newly invented power of steam, which thus involved me in a fate so +dreadful? What right had man to arrogate to himself a prerogative of +motion his own physical powers denied him; and why did he dare to +penetrate into the very bowels of the earth, when his instinct clearly +pointed to avocations on the surface? These reflections were speedily +routed; for now, a low, rumbling sound, such as I have heard described as +the premonitory sign of a coming earthquake, filled the tunnel. It grew +louder and louder; and whether it were the sudden change from the dread +stillness, or that, in reality, it were so, it sounded like the booming of +the sea within some gigantic cavern. I listened anxiously, and oh, +terrible thought! now I could hear the heavy thug! thug! of the piston. It +was a train! +</p> +<p> +“A train coming towards me! Every sob of the straining engine sent a +death-pang through me; the wild roar of a lion could not convey more +terror to my heart! I thought of leaving the carriage, and clinging to the +side of the tunnel; but there was only one line of rails, and the space +barely permitted the train to pass! It was now too late for any effort; +the thundering clamor of the engine swelled like the report of heavy +artillery, and then a red hazy light gleamed amid the darkness, as though +an eye of fire was looking into my very soul. It grew into a ghastly +brightness, and I thought its flame could almost scorch me. It came nearer +and nearer. The dark figures of the drivers passed and re-passed behind +it. I screamed and yelled in my agony, and in the frenzy of the moment +drew a pistol from my pocket, and fired,—why, or in what direction, +I know not. A shrill scream shot through the gloom. Was it a death-cry? I +could not tell, for I had fainted. +</p> +<p> +“The remainder is easily told. The train had, on discovering my being left +behind, sent back an engine to fetch me; but from a mistake of the driver, +who was given to suppose that I had not entered the tunnel, he had kept +the engine at half speed, and without the happy accident of the pistol and +the flash of the powder, I should inevitably have been run down; for, even +as it was, the collision drove my carriage about fifty yards backwards, an +incident of which, happily, I neither was conscious at the time, nor +suffered from afterwards.” + </p> +<p> +“That comes of travelling on a foreign railroad!” muttered a ruddy-faced +old gentleman in drab shorts. “Those fellows have no more notion of how to +manage an engine—” + </p> +<p> +“Than the Pope has of the polka,” chimed in a very Irish accent from the +corner of the carriage. +</p> +<p> +“Very true, sir,” rejoined the former. “English is the only language to +speak to the boiler. The moment they try it on with French or German, +something goes wrong. You saw how they roasted the people at Versailles, +and—” + </p> +<p> +“Ah! the devil a bit they know about it at all,” interposed the Emeralder. +“The water is never more than lukewarm, and there ‘s more smoke out of the +chap’s pipe that stands in front than out of the funnel. They ‘ve +generally an engine at each end, and it takes twenty minutes at every +station to decide which way they’ll go,—one wanting this way, and +the other that.” + </p> +<p> +“Is it not better in Belgium?” asked I. +</p> +<p> +“Belgium, is it?—bad luck to it for Belgium: I ought to know +something of how <i>they</i> manage. There is n’t a word of truth among +them. Were you ever at Antwerp?” + </p> +<p> +“Yes; I have passed through it several times.” + </p> +<p> +“Well, how long does it take to go from Antwerp to Brussels?” + </p> +<p> +“Something more than an hour, if I remember aright.” + </p> +<p> +“Something more!—on my conscience I think it does. See now, it’s +four days and a half travelling the same journey.” + </p> +<p> +A burst of laughter irrepressible met this speech, for scarcely any one of +the party had not had personal experience of the short distance alluded +to. +</p> +<p> +“You may laugh as much as you please,—you’re welcome to your fun; +but I went the road myself, and I ‘d like to see which of you would say I +did n’t.” + </p> +<p> +There was no mistaking the tone nor the intention of the speech; it was +said without any elevation of voice or any bravado of manner, but with the +quiet, easy determination of a man who only asked reasonable grounds for +an opportunity to blow some other gentleman’s brains out. Some disclaimed +all idea of a contradiction, others apologized for the mirth at the great +disparity of the two statements,—one alleging an hour for what +another said four days were required; while I, anxious to learn the +Irishman’s explanation, timidly hinted a desire to hear more of his +travelling experiences. +</p> +<p> +He acceded to my wish with as much readiness as he would probably have +done had I made overtures of battle, and narrated the following short +incident, which, for memory’s sake, I have called +</p> +<p> +“MR. BLAKE IN BELGIUM.” + </p> +<p> +“I was persuaded,” quoth Mr. Blake,—“I was persuaded by my wife that +we ought to go and live abroad for economy,—that there would be no +end to the saving we ‘d make by leaving our house in Galway, and taking up +our residence in France or Belgium. First, we ‘d let the place for at +least six hundred a year,—the garden and orchard we set down for one +hundred; then we ‘d send away all the lazy ‘old hangers on,’ as my wife +called them, such as the gatekeepers and gardeners and stable boys. These, +her sister told her, were ‘eating us up’ entirely; and her sister was a +clever one too,—a widow woman that had lived in every part of the +globe, and knew all the scandal of every capital in Europe, on less than +four hundred a year. She told my wife that Ireland was the lowest place at +all; nobody would think of bringing up their family there; no education, +no manners, and, worst of all, no men that could afford to marry. This was +a home-stroke, for we had five grown-up girls. +</p> +<p> +“‘My dear,’ said she, ‘you’ll live like the Duchess of Sutherland, abroad, +for eight hundred a year; you ‘ll have a beautiful house, see company, +keep your carriage and saddle horses, and drink Champagne every day of the +week, like small beer; then velvets and lace are to be had for a song; the +housemaids wear nothing but silk;’ in fact, from my wife down to little +Joe, that heard sugar candy was only a penny an ounce, we were all +persuaded there was nothing like going abroad for economy. +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Fitzmaurice—that was my sister-in-law’s name—explained +to us how there was nothing so expensive as Ireland. +</p> +<p> +“‘‘T is not, my dear,’ said she, ‘that things are not cheap; but that’s +the reason it’s ruinous to live here. There’s old Molly the cook uses more +meat in a day than would feed a foreign family for a month. If you want a +beefsteak, you must kill a heifer. Now abroad you just get the joint you +want, to the very size you wish,—no bone, if you don’t ask for it. +And look at the waste. In the stables you keep eight horses, and you never +have a pair for the carriage. The boys are mounted; but you and the girls +have nothing to drive out with. Besides, what can you do with that +overgrown garden? It costs you £50 a year, and you get nothing out of it +but crab-apples and cabbages. No, no; the Continent is the place; and as +for society, instead of old Darcy, of Ballinamuck, or Father Luke, for +company, you ‘ll have Prince this, and Count that, foreign ministers and +plenipotentiaries, archdukes, and attachés without end. There will be more +stars round your dinner-table than ever you saw in the sky on a frosty +night And the girls. I would n’t wonder if the girls, by giving a sly hint +that they had a little money, might n’t marry some of the young Coburgs.’ +</p> +<p> +“These were flattering visions, while for me the trap was baited with +port, duty free, and strong Burgundy, at one and sixpence a bottle. My son +Tom was taught to expect cigars at twopence a dozen; and my second +daughter, Mary, was told that, with the least instruction, her Irish jig +could be converted into a polka. In fact, it was clear we had only to go +abroad to save two-thirds of our income, and become the most accomplished +people into the bargain. +</p> +<p> +“From the hour this notion was mooted amongst us, Ireland became +detestable. The very pleasures and pastimes we once liked, grew +distasteful; even the society of our friends came associated with ideas of +vulgarity that deprived it of all enjoyment. +</p> +<p> +“‘That miserable satin-turque,’ exclaimed my wife, ‘it is a mere rag, and +it cost me five and ninepence a yard. Mrs. Fitz. says that a shop-girl +would n’t wear it in Paris.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Infernal climate!’ cries Tom; ‘nothing but rain above and mud beneath.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘And, dear papa,’ cries Sophy, ‘old Flannigan has no more notion of +French than I have of fortification. He calls the man that sells sausages +the ‘Marchand de combustibles.’ +</p> +<p> +“If these were not reasons for going abroad, I know nothing of Ireland; +and so we advertised ‘Castle Blake’ to be let, and the farming-stock to be +sold. The latter wasn’t difficult. My neighbors bought up everything at +short bills, to be renewed whenever they became due. As for the house, it +was n’t so easy to find a tenant. So I put in the herd to take care of it, +and gave him the garden for his pains. I turned in my cattle over the +lawn, which, after eating the grass, took to nibbling the young trees and +barking the older ones. This was not a very successful commencement of +economy; but Mrs. Fitz. always said,— +</p> +<p> +“‘What matter? you ‘ll save more than double the amount the first year you +are abroad.’ +</p> +<p> +“To carry out their economical views, it was determined that Brussels, and +not Paris, should be our residence for the first year; and thither my wife +and two sons and five daughters repaired, under the special guidance of +Mrs. Fitz., who undertook the whole management of our affairs, both +domestic and social. I was left behind to arrange certain money matters, +and about the payment of interest on some mortgages, which I consoled +myself by thinking that a few years of foreign economy would enable me to +pay off in full. +</p> +<p> +“It was nearly six months after their departure from Ireland that I +prepared to follow,—not in such good spirits, I confess, as I once +hoped would be my companions on the journey. The cheapness of Continental +life requires, it would appear, considerable outlay at the first, probably +on the principle that a pastry-cook’s apprentice is always surfeited with +tarts during the first week, so that he never gets any taste for +sweetmeats afterwards. This might account for my wife having drawn about +twelve hundred pounds in that short time, and always accompanying every +fresh demand for money with an eloquent panegyric on her own economy. To +believe her, never was there a household so admirably managed. The +housemaid could dress hair; the butler could drive the carriage; the +writing-master taught music; the dancing-master gave my eldest daughter a +lesson in French without any extra charge. Everything that was expensive +was the cheapest in the end. Genoa velvet lasted for ever; real Brussels +lace never wore out; it was only the ‘mock things’ that were costly. It +was frightful to think how many families were brought to ruin by cheap +articles! +</p> +<p> +“‘I suppose it’s all right,’ said I to myself; ‘and so far as I am +concerned I ‘ll not beggar my family by taking to cheap wines. If they +have any Burgundy that goes so high as one and eightpence, I will drink +two bottles every day.’ +</p> +<p> +“Well, sir, at last came the time that I was to set out to join them; and +I sailed from London in the Princess Victoria, with my passport in one +pocket, and a written code of directions in the other, for of French I +knew not one syllable. It was not that my knowledge was imperfect or +doubtful; but I was as ignorant of the language as though it was a dead +one. +</p> +<p> +“‘The place should be cheap,’ thought I, ‘for certainly it has no charms +of scenery to recommend it,’ as we slowly wended our way up the sluggish +Scheldt, and looked with some astonishment at the land the Dutchmen +thought worth fighting for. Arrived at Antwerp, I went through the ordeal +of having my trunks ransacked, and my passport examined by some +warlike-looking characters, with swords on. They said many things to me; +but I made no reply, seeing that we were little likely to benefit by each +other’s conversation; and at last, when all my formalities were +accomplished, I followed a concourse of people who, I rightly supposed, +were on their way to the railroad. +</p> +<p> +“It is a plaguy kind of thing enough, even for a taciturn man, not to +speak the language of those about him; however, I made myself tolerably +well understood at this station, by pulling out a handful of silver coin, +and repeating the word Brussels, with every variety of accent I could +think of. They guessed my intentions, and in acknowledgment of my +inability to speak one word of French, pulled and shoved me along till I +reached one of the carriages. At last a horn blew, another replied to it, +a confused uproar of shouting succeeded, like what occurs on board a +merchant ship when getting under weigh, and off jogged the train, at a +very honest eight miles an hour; but with such a bumping, shaking, +shivering, and rickety motion, it was more like travelling over a Yankee +corduroy road than anything else. I don’t know what class of carriage I +was in, but the passengers were all white-faced, smoky-looking fellows, +with very soiled shirts and dirty hands; with them, of course, I had no +manner of intercourse. I was just thinking whether I should n’t take a +nap, when the train came to a dead stop, and immediately after, the whole +platform was covered with queer-looking fellows, in shovelled hats, and +long petticoats like women. These gentry kept bowing and saluting each +other in a very droll fashion, and absorbed my attention, when my arm was +pulled by one of the guards of the line, while he said something to me in +French. What he wanted, the devil himself may know; but the more I +protested that I could n’t speak, the louder he replied, and the more +frantically he gesticulated, pointing while he did so to a train about to +start, hard by. +</p> +<p> +“‘Oh! that’s it,’ said I to myself, ‘we change coaches here;’ and so I +immediately got out, and made the best of my way over to the other train. +I had scarcely time to spare, for away it went at about the same lively +pace as the last one. After travelling about an hour and a half more, I +began to look out for Brussels, and, looking at my code of instructions, I +suspected I could not be far off; nor was I much mistaken as to our being +nigh a station, for the speed was diminished to a slow trot, and then a +walk, after a mile of which we crept up to the outside of a large town. +There was no nse in losing time in asking questions; so I seized my +carpet-bag, and jumped out, and, resisting all the offers of the idle +vagabonds to carry my luggage, I forced my way through the crowd, and set +out in search of my family. I soon got into an intricate web of narrow +streets, with shops full of wooden shoes, pipes, and blankets of all the +colors of the rainbow; and after walking for about three-quarters of an +hour, began to doubt whether I was not traversing the same identical +streets,—or was it that they were only brothers? ‘Where’s the +Boulevard?’ thought I, ‘this beautiful place they have been telling me of, +with houses on one side, and trees on the other; I can see nothing like +it;’ and so I sat down on my carpet-bag, and began to ruminate on my +situation. +</p> +<p> +“‘Well, this will never do,’ said I, at last; ‘I must try and ask for the +Boulevard de Regent.’ I suppose it was my bad accent that amused them, for +every fellow I stopped put on a broad grin: some pointed this way, and +some pointed that; but they all thought it a high joke. I spent an hour in +this fashion, and then gave up the pursuit. My next thought was the hotel +where my family had stopped on their arrival, which I found, on examining +my notes, was called the ‘Hôtel de Suède.’ Here I was more lucky,—every +one knew that; and after traversing a couple of streets, I found myself at +the door of a great roomy inn, with a door like a coach-house gate. ‘There +is no doubt about this,’ said I; for the words ‘Hôtel de Suède’ were +written up in big letters. I made signs for something to eat, for I was +starving; but before my pantomime was well begun, the whole household set +off in search of a waiter who could speak English. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ha! ha!’ said a fellow with an impudent leer, ‘roa bif, eh?’ +</p> +<p> +“I did not know whether it was meant for me, or the bill of fare, but I +said ‘Yes, and potatoes;’ but before I let him go in search of the dinner, +I thought I would ask him a few words about my family, who had stopped at +the hotel for three weeks. +</p> +<p> +“‘Do you know Mrs. Blake,’ said I, ‘of Castle Blake?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yees, yees, I know her very veil.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘She was here about six months ago.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yees, yees; she vas here sex months.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘No; not for six months,—three weeks.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yees; all de same.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Did you see her lately?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yees, dis mornin’.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘This morning! was she here this morning?’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Yees; she come here vith a captain of Cuirassiers—ah! droll fellow +dat!’ +</p> +<p> +“‘That’s a lie anyhow,’ said I, ‘my young gentleman;’ and with that I +planted my fist between his eyes, and laid him flat on the floor. Upon my +conscience you would have thought it was murder I had done; never was +there such yelling, and screaming, and calling for the police, and Heaven +knows what besides; and sure enough, they marched me off between a file of +soldiers to a place like a guard-room, where, whatever the fellow swore +against me, it cost me a five-pound note before I got free. +</p> +<p> +“‘Keep a civil tongue in your head, young man, about Mrs. Blake, anyway; +for by the hill of Maam, if I hear a word about the Cuirassier, I’ll not +leave a whole bone in your skin.’ +</p> +<p> +“Well, sir, I got a roast chicken, and a dish of water-cress, and I got +into a bed about four feet six long; and what between the fleas and the +nightmare, I had n’t a pleasant time of it till morning. +</p> +<p> +“After breakfast I opened my map of Brussels, and, sending for the +landlord, bid him point with his finger to the place I was in. He soon +understood my meaning; but, taking me by the arm, he led me to the wall, +on which was a large map of Belgium, and then, my jewell what do you think +I discovered? It was not in Brussels I was at all, but in Louvain! +seventeen miles on the other side of it! Well, there was nothing for it +now but to go back; so I paid my bill and set off down to the station. In +half an hour the train came up, and when they asked me where I was going, +I repeated the word ‘Brussels’ several times over. This did not seem to +satisfy them; and they said something about my being an Englishman. +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes, yes,’ said I, ‘Angleterre, Angleterre.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, Angleterre!’ said one, who looked shrewder than the rest; and as if +at once comprehending my intentions, he assisted me into a carriage, and, +politely taking off his hat, made me a salute at parting, adding something +about a ‘voyage.’ ‘Well, he ‘ll be a cunning fellow that sees me leave +this train till it comes to its destination,’ said I; ‘I’ll not be shoved +out by any confounded guard, as I was yesterday.’ My resolution was not +taken in vain, for just at the very place I got out, on the day before, a +fellow came, and began making signs for me to change to another train. +</p> +<p> +“‘I’ll tell you what,’ says I, laying hold of my cotton umbrella at the +same moment, ‘I ‘ll make a Belgian of you, if you will not let me alone. +Out of this place I ‘ll not budge for King Leopold himself.’ +</p> +<p> +“And though he looked very savage for a few minutes, the way I handled my +weapon satisfied him that I was not joking, and he gave it up for a bad +job, and left me at peace. The other passengers said something, I suppose, +in explanation. +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘I ‘m an Englishman, or an Irishman,—It’s all one,—Angleterre.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, Angleterre!’ said three or four in a breath; and the words seemed to +act like a charm upon them, for whatever I did seemed all fair and +reasonable now. I kept a sharp look-out for Brussels; but hour after hour +slipped past, and though we passed several large towns, there was no sign +of it. After six hours’ travelling, an old gentleman pulled out his watch, +and made signs to me that we should be in in less than ten minutes more; +and so we were, and a droll-looking place it was,—a town built in a +hole, with clay ditches all round it, to keep out the sea. +</p> +<p> +“‘My wife never said a word about this,’ said I; ‘she used to say Castle +Blake was damp, but this place beats it hollow. Where’s the Boulevards?’ +said I. +</p> +<p> +“And a fellow pointed to a sod bank, where a sentry was on guard. +</p> +<p> +“‘If it’s a joke you ‘re making me,’ said I, ‘you mistake your man; ‘and I +aimed a blow at him with my umbrella, that sent him running down the +street as fast as his wooden slippers would let him. +</p> +<p> +“‘It ought to be cheap here, anyhow,’ said I. ‘Faith, I think a body ought +to be paid for living in it; but how will I find out <i>the</i> family!’ +</p> +<p> +“I was two hours walking through this cursed hole, always coming back to a +big square, with a fish-market, no matter which way I turned; for devil a +one could tell me a word about Mrs. Blake or Mrs. Fitz. either. +</p> +<p> +“‘Is there a hotel?’ said I; and the moment I said the word, a dozen +fellows were dragging me here and there, till I had to leave two or three +of them sprawling with my umbrella, and give myself up to the guidance of +one of the number. Well, the end of it was—if I passed the last +night at Louvain, the present I was destined to pass at Ostend! +</p> +<p> +“I left this mud town, by the early train, next morning; and having +altered my tactics, determined now to be guided by any one who would take +the trouble to direct me,—neither resisting nor opposing. To be +brief, for my story has grown too lengthy, I changed carriages four times, +at each place there being a row among the bystanders which party should +decide my destination,—the excitement once running so high that I +lost one skirt of my coat, and had my cravat pulled off; and the end of +this was that I arrived, at four in the afternoon, at Liège, sixty-odd +miles beyond Brussels! for, somehow, these intelligent people have +contrived to make their railroads all converge to one small town called +‘Malines:’ so that you may—as was my case—pass within twelve +miles of Brussels every day, and yet never set eyes on it. +</p> +<p> +<a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> +<!-- IMG --></a> +</p> +<div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> +<img src="images/644.jpg" width="100%" alt="644 " /><br /> +</div> +<p> +“I was now so fatigued by travelling, so wearied by anxiety and fever, +that I kept my bed the whole of the following day, dreaming, whenever I +did sleep, of everlasting railroads, and starting put of my slumbers to +wonder if I should ever see my family again. I set out once more, and for +the last time,—my mind being made up, that if I failed now, I ‘d +take up my abode wherever chance might drop me, and write to my wife to +come and look for me. The bright thought flashed on me, as I watched the +man in the baggage office labelling the baggage, and, seizing one of the +gummed labels marked ‘Bruxelles,’ I took off my coat, and stuck it between +the shoulders. This done, I resumed my garment, and took my place. +</p> +<p> +“The plan succeeded; the only inconvenience I sustained being the +necessity I was under of showing my way-bill whenever they questioned me, +and making a pirouette to the company,—a performance that kept the +passengers in broad grins for the whole day’s journey. So you see, +gentlemen, they may talk as they please about the line from Antwerp to +Brussels, and the time being only one hour fifteen minutes; but take my +word for it, that even—if you don’t take a day’s rest—it’s a +good three days’ and a half, and costs eighty-five francs, and some +coppers besides.” + </p> +<p> +“The economy of the Continent, then, did not fulfil your expectations?” + </p> +<p> +“Economy is it?” echoed Mr. Blake, with a groan; “for the matter of that, +my dear, it was like my own journey,—a mighty roundabout way of +gaining your object, and”—here he sighed heavily—“nothing to +boast of when you got it.” + </p> +<p> +<br /><br /> +</p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Tales Of The Trains, by Charles James Lever + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF THE TRAINS *** + +***** This file should be named 34884-h.htm or 34884-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/8/8/34884/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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