CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
RESULTS OF THE ACCIDENT.
Years passed away--as years inevitably must--and many important changestook place in the circumstances and the management of the Grand NationalTrunk Railway, but the results of that terrible accident did not quicklypass away. As we have said, it cost Will Garvie an arm, and nearly costMrs Marrot her life. We have much pleasure, however, in recording,that it did not make the full charge in this matter. A small, a verysmall modicum of life was left in that estimable woman, and on thestrength of that, with her wonted vigour of character and invincibilityof purpose, she set to work to draw out, as it were, a new lease oflife. She succeeded to admiration, so much so, in fact, that but forone or two scars on her countenance, no one could have known that shehad come by an accident at all. Bob Marrot was wont to say of her, inafter years, that, "if it had bin his mother who had lost an arm insteadof Will Garvie, he was convinced that her firmness, amountin' a'most toobstinacy, of purpose, would have enabled her to grow on a noo arm asgood as the old 'un, if not better." We need scarcely add that Bob wasan irreverent scamp!
Poor Will Garvie! his was a sad loss, yet, strange to say, he rejoicedover it. "W'y, you see," he used to say to Bob Marrot--Bob and he beinggreat and confidential friends--"you see, Bob, if it hadn't bin for thataccident, I never would have bin laid up and brought so low--so verynigh to the grave--and I would never have know'd what it was to benursed by your sister too; and so my eyes might have never bin opened tohalf her goodness an' tenderness, d'ye see? No, Bob, I don't grudgehavin' had my eyes opened by the loss of an arm; it was done cheap atthe price. Of course I know Loo pretty well by this time, for a fewyears of married life is apt to clear a good deal of dust out of one'seyes, but I do assure you, Bob, that I never _could_ have know'd herproperly but for that accident, which was the luckiest thing that everhappened to me; an' then, don't 'ee see, I'm just as able to work thesethere points with one arm as with two."
To which Bob would reply,--"You're a queer fish, Bill; howsever, everyman's got a right to his own opinions."
Will Garvie was a pointsman now. On recovering from his prolongedillness, during which he had been supported out of the Provident Fund ofthe railway--to which he and all the other men on the line contributed--he was put to light work at first at the station of Clatterby. Bydegrees his strength returned, and he displayed so much intelligence,and such calmness of nerve and coolness of courage, that he was made apointsman at the station, and had a sentry-box sort of erection, withwindows all round it, apportioned to his daily use. There he wascontinually employed in shifting the points for the shunting of trains,none of which dared to move, despite their mighty power and impatience,until Will Garvie gave them leave.
To John Marrot, the accident although not severe at first, had provedmore damaging in the long-run. No bones had been broken, or limbs lost,but John had received a shake so bad that he did not resume his dutieswith the same vigour as heretofore. He continued to stick to his post,however, for several years, and, before giving it up, had the pleasureof training his son Bob in the situation which Garvie had been obligedto resign. Bob's heart you see, had been all along set on driving the_Lightning_; he therefore gladly left the "Works" when old enough,--andwhen the opportunity offered,--to fill the preliminary post of fireman.
During this period Edwin Gurwood rose to a responsible and sufficientlylucrative situation in the Clearing-House. At the same time he employedmuch of his leisure in cultivating the art of painting, of which he waspassionately fond. At first he painted for pleasure, but he soon found,on exhibiting one or two of his works, that picture-dealers were willingto purchase from him. He therefore began to paint for profit, andsucceeded so well that he began to save and lay by money, with a view tothat wife with the nut-brown hair and the large lustrous eyes, whohaunted his dreams by night and became his guiding-star by day.
Seeing him thus wholly immersed in the acquisition of money, and notknowing his motive, his faithful little friend Joe Tipps one day amazed,and half-offended him, by reminding him that he had a soul to be caredfor as well as a body. The arrow was tenderly shot, and with atrembling hand, but Joe prayed that it might be sent home, and it was.From that date Edwin could not rest. He reviewed his life. Hereflected that everything he possessed, or hoped for, came to him, orwas to come, from God; yet as far as he could make out he saw noevidence of the existence of religion in himself save in the one factthat he went regularly to church on Sundays. He resolved to turn over anew leaf. Tried--and failed. He was perplexed, for he had triedhonestly.
"Tipps," he said, one day, "you are the only man I ever could make aconfidant of. To say truth I'm not given to being very communicative asto personal matters at any time, but I _must_ tell you that the remarkyou made about my soul the other day has stuck to me, and I have triedto lead a Christian life, but without much success."
"Perhaps," said Tipps, timidly, "it is because you have not yet become aChristian."
"My _dear_ fellow!" exclaimed Edwin, "is not leading a Christian lifebecoming a Christian?"
"Don't you think," said Tipps, in an apologetic tone, "that leading aChristian life is rather the result of having become a Christian? Itseems to me that you have been taking the plan of putting yourself andyour doings first, and our Saviour last."
We need not prolong a conversation referring to the "old, old story,"which ran very much in the usual groove. Suffice it to say that Edwinat last carefully consulted the Bible as to the plan of redemption; and,in believing, found that rest of spirit which he had failed to work out.Thenceforward he had a higher motive for labouring at his daily toil,yet the old motive did not lose but rather gained in power by thechange--whereby he realised the truth that, "godliness is profitable forthe life that now is as well as that which is to come."
At last the painting became so successful that Edwin resolved to trustto it alone--said good-bye to the Clearing-House with regret--for heleft many a pleasant companion and several intimate friends behind him--and went to Clatterby, in the suburbs of which he took and furnished asmall villa.
Then it was that he came to the conclusion that the time had arrived tomake a pointed appeal to the nut-brown hair and lustrous eyes. He wentoff and called at Captain Lee's house accordingly. The captain wasout--Miss Lee was at home. Edwin entered the house, but he left all hisnative courage and self-possession on the doorstep outside!
Being ushered into the drawing-room he found Emma reading. From thatmoment--to his own surprise, and according to his own statement--hebecame an ass! The metamorphosis was complete. Ovid, had he beenalive, would have rejoiced in it! He blushed more than a poor boycaught in his first grievous offence. The very straightforwardness ofhis character helped to make him worse. He felt, in all its importance,the momentous character of the step he was about to take, and he felt inall its strength the love with which his heart was full, and theinestimable value of the prize at which he aimed. No wonder that he wasoverwhelmed.
The reader will observe that we have not attempted to dilate in thisbook on the value of that prize. Emma, like many other good people, isonly incidental to our subject. We have been obliged to leave her tothe reader's imagination. After all, what better could we have done?Imagination is more powerful in this matter than description. Neitherone nor other could, we felt, approach the reality, thereforeimagination was best.
"Emma!" he said, sitting down on the sofa beside her, and seizing herhand in both of his.
"Mr Gurwood!" she exclaimed in some alarm.
Beginning, from the mere force of habit, some half-delirious referenceto the weather, Edwin suddenly stopped, passed his fingers wildlythrough 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 byday--for years I have--"
At that moment Captain Lee entered the room.
Edwin leaped up and stoo
d erect. Emma buried her face in the sofacushions.
"Edwin--Mr Gurwood!" exclaimed Captain Lee.
This was the beginning of a conversation which terminated eventually inthe transference of the nut-brown hair and lustrous eyes to the artist'svilla in Clatterby. As there was a good garden round the villa, and thewife with nut-brown hair was uncommonly fond of flowers, Edwin lookedout for a gardener. It was at this identical time that John Marrotresolved to resign his situation as engine-driver on the Grand NationalTrunk Railway. Edwin, knowing that he had imbibed a considerable amountof knowledge of gardening from Loo, at once offered to employ him as hisgardener; John gladly closed with the offer, and thus it came about thathe and his wife removed to the villa and left their old railway-riddencottage in possession of Will and Loo--or, to be more correct, Mr andMrs Garvie, and all the young Garvies.
But what of timid Mrs Tipps? The great accident did little for herbeyond shaking her nervous system, and confirming her in the belief thatrailways were unutterably detestable; that she was not quite surewhether or not they were sinful; that, come what might, she never wouldenter one again; and that she felt convinced she had been born a hundredyears too late, in which latter opinion most of her friends agreed withher, although they were glad, considering her loveable disposition, thatthe mistake had occurred. Netta did not take quite such an extremeview, and Joseph laughed at and quizzed them both, in an amiable sort offashion, on their views.
Among all the sufferers by that accident few suffered so severely--withthe exception: of course, of those who lost their lives--as the GrandNational Trunk Railway itself. In the course of the trials thatfollowed, it was clearly shown that the company had run the train muchmore with the view of gratifying the public than of enriching theircoffers, from the fact that the utmost possible sum which they couldhope to draw by it was 17 pounds, for which sum they had carried 600passengers upwards of twenty miles. The accident took place inconsequence of circumstances over which the company had no control, andthe results were--that twenty persons were killed and about two hundredwounded! 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 payfrom seventy to eighty thousand pounds! out of which the highest sumpaid to one individual was 6750 pounds! The risks that are thus run byrailway companies will be seen to be excessive, especially when it isconsidered that excursion trains afford but slight remuneration, whilemany of them convey enormous numbers of passengers. On the occasion ofthe first excursion from Oxford to London, in 1851, fifty-two of thebroad-gauge carriages of the Great Western were employed, and theexcursionists numbered upwards of three thousand five hundred--a verytown on wheels! Truly the risks of railway companies are great, andtheir punishments severe.