Part 31 (1/2)

”Emma!” he said, sitting down on the sofa beside her, and seizing her hand in both of his.

”Mr Gurwood!” she exclaimed in some alarm.

Beginning, from the mere force of habit, some half-delirious reference to the weather, Edwin suddenly stopped, pa.s.sed his fingers wildly through his hair, and again said, with deep earnestness,--”Emma.”

Emma looked down, blushed, and said nothing.

”Emma,” he said again, ”my good angel, my guiding-star--by night and by day--for years I have--”

At that moment Captain Lee entered the room.

Edwin leaped up and stood erect. Emma buried her face in the sofa cus.h.i.+ons.

”Edwin--Mr Gurwood!” exclaimed Captain Lee.

This was the beginning of a conversation which terminated eventually in the transference of the nut-brown hair and l.u.s.trous eyes to the artist's villa in Clatterby. As there was a good garden round the villa, and the wife with nut-brown hair was uncommonly fond of flowers, Edwin looked out for a gardener. It was at this identical time that John Marrot resolved to resign his situation as engine-driver on the Grand National Trunk Railway. Edwin, knowing that he had imbibed a considerable amount of knowledge of gardening from Loo, at once offered to employ him as his gardener; John gladly closed with the offer, and thus it came about that he and his wife removed to the villa and left their old railway-ridden cottage in possession of Will and Loo--or, to be more correct, Mr and Mrs Garvie, and all the young Garvies.

But what of timid Mrs Tipps? The great accident did little for her beyond shaking her nervous system, and confirming her in the belief that railways were unutterably detestable; that she was not quite sure whether or not they were sinful; that, come what might, she never would enter one again; and that she felt convinced she had been born a hundred years too late, in which latter opinion most of her friends agreed with her, although they were glad, considering her loveable disposition, that the mistake had occurred. Netta did not take quite such an extreme view, and Joseph laughed at and quizzed them both, in an amiable sort of fas.h.i.+on, on their views.

Among all the sufferers by that accident few suffered so severely--with the exception: of course, of those who lost their lives--as the Grand National Trunk Railway itself. In the course of the trials that followed, it was clearly shown that the company had run the train much more with the view of gratifying the public than of enriching their coffers, from the fact that the utmost possible sum which they could hope to draw by it was 17 pounds, for which sum they had carried 600 pa.s.sengers upwards of twenty miles. The accident took place in consequence of circ.u.mstances over which the company had no control, and the results were--that twenty persons were killed and about two hundred wounded! that one hundred and sixty claims were made for compensation-- one hundred and forty of which, being deemed exorbitant or fraudulent, were defended in court; and that, eventually, the company had to pay from seventy to eighty thousand pounds! out of which the highest sum paid to one individual was 6750 pounds! The risks that are thus run by railway companies will be seen to be excessive, especially when it is considered that excursion trains afford but slight remuneration, while many of them convey enormous numbers of pa.s.sengers. On the occasion of the first excursion from Oxford to London, in 1851, fifty-two of the broad-gauge carriages of the Great Western were employed, and the excursionists numbered upwards of three thousand five hundred--a very town on wheels! Truly the risks of railway companies are great, and their punishments severe.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

THE LAST.

A certain Christmas-day approached. On the morning of the day preceding, Will Garvie--looking as broad and st.u.r.dy as ever; a perfect man, but for the empty sleeve--stood at his post near his sentry-box.

His duties that day were severe. At that season of the year there is a great increase of traffic on all railways, and you may be sure that the Grand National Trunk Railway had its full share.

On ordinary occasions about three hundred trains pa.s.sed Will Garvie's box, out and in, during the twelve hours, but that day there had been nearly double the number of pa.s.sengers, and a considerable increase in the number of trains that conveyed them, while goods trains had also increased greatly in bulk and in numbers.

Garvie's box ab.u.t.ted on a bridge, and stood in the very midst of a labyrinth of intricate crossing lines, over which trains and pilot-engines were constantly rus.h.i.+ng and hissing, backing and whistling viciously, and in the midst of which, Will moved at the continual risk of his life, as cool as a cuc.u.mber (so Bob Garvie expressed it), and as safe as the bank.

Although thus situated in the midst of smoke, noise, dust, iron, and steam, Will Garvie managed to indulge his love for flowers. He had a garden on the line--between the very rails! It was not large, to be sure, only about six feet by two--but it was large enough for his limited desires. The garden was in a wooden trough in front of his sentry-box. It contained mignonette, roses, and heart's-ease among other things, and every time that Will pa.s.sed out of or into his box in performing the duties connected with the station, he took a look at the flowers and thought of Loo and the innumerable boys, girls, and babies at home. We need not say that this garden was beautifully kept.

Whatever Will did he did well--probably because he tended well the garden of his own soul.

While he was standing outside his box during one of the brief intervals between trains, an extremely beautiful girl came on the platform and called across the rails to him.

”Hallo! Gertie--what brings _you_ here?” he asked, with a look of glad surprise.

”To see _you_,” replied Gertie, with a smile that was nothing short of bewitching.

”How I wish you were a flower, that I might plant you in my garden,”

said the gallant William, as he crossed the rails and reached up to shake Gertie's hand.

”What a greedy man you are!” said Gertie. ”Isn't Loo enough for you?”

”Quite enough,” replied Will, ”I might almost say more than enough at times; but come, la.s.s, this ain't the place for a palaver. You came to speak with me as well as to see me, no doubt.”

”Yes, Will, I came with a message from Mrs Tipps. You know that the railway men are going to present father with a testimonial to-night; well, Mrs Tipps thinks that her drawing-room won't be large enough, so she sent me to ask you to let the men know that it is to be presented in the schoolroom, where the volunteer rifle band is to perform and make a sort of concert of it.”

”Indeed!” said Will.