CHAPTER FOUR.
A DOUBLE DILEMMA AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
Meanwhile, the "tall good-looking fellow with the eyeglass and lightwhiskers" sat quaking opposite Emma Lee. The extreme absurdity, not tosay danger, of his position as a traveller to nowhere without a ticket,flashed upon him when too late, and he would have cheerfully given fiftypounds, had he possessed such a sum, if the boards under his feet wouldhave opened and let him drop between the rails. In fact he felt soconfused and guilty that--albeit not naturally a shy youth--he did notdare to look at Emma for some time after starting, but sat with downcasteyes, revolving in his mind how he was to get out of the dilemma; butthe more he revolved the matter the more hopeless did his case appear.At length he ventured to look at Emma, and their eyes encountered. Ofcourse Gurwood looked pointedly out at the window and became fascinatedby the landscape; and of course Emma, looked out at the _other_ window,and became equally interested in the landscape. Feeling very unhappy;Edwin soon after that took out a newspaper and tried to read, but failedso completely that he gave it up in despair and laid the paper on theseat beside him.
Just then a happy thought flashed into his mind. He would go on toLangrye station, get out there, and make a confidant of his friendJoseph Tipps, who, of course, could easily get him out of hisdifficulty. He now felt as if a mighty load were lifted off his heart,and, his natural courage returning, he put up his eyeglass, which hadbeen forgotten during the period of his humiliation, and gazed at theprospect with increasing interest--now through the right window, andthen through the left--taking occasion each time to glance with stillgreater interest at Emma Lee's beautiful countenance.
The captain, whose disposition was sociable, and who had chatted a gooddeal with his daughter while their _vis-a-vis_ was in his agony, soontook occasion to remark that the scenery was very fine. Edwin, gazingat the black walls of a tunnel into which they plunged, and thinking ofEmma's face, replied that it was--extremely. Emerging from the tunnel,and observing the least possible approach to a smile on. Emma's lips,Edwin remarked to the captain that railway travelling presented ratherabrupt changes and contrasts in scenery. The captain laughingly agreedwith this, and so, from one thing to another, they went on until the twogot into a lively conversation--Captain Lee thinking his travellingcompanion an extremely agreeable young fellow, and Edwin esteeming thecaptain one of the jolliest old boys he had ever met! These are thevery words he used, long after, in commenting on this meeting to hisfriend Joseph Tipps.
During a pause in the conversation, Emma asked her father to whom acertain villa they were passing belonged.
"I don't know," replied the captain; "stay, let me see, I ought to knowmost of the places hereabouts--no, I can't remember."
"I rather think it belongs to a Colonel Jones," said Gurwood, for thefirst time venturing to address Emma directly. "A friend of mine who isconnected with this railway knows him, and has often spoken to me abouthim. The colonel has led an extremely adventurous life, I believe."
"Indeed!"
There was not much apparently in that little word, but there must havebeen something mysterious in it, for it caused Edwin's heart to leap asit had never leapt before. On the strength of it he began to relatesome of Colonel Jones's adventures, addressing himself now partly to thecaptain and partly to Emma. He had a happy knack of telling a story,and had thoroughly interested his hearers when the train slowed andstopped, but as this was not the station at which he meant to get out--Langrye being the next--he took no notice of the stoppage. Neither didhe pay any regard to a question asked by the acute man, whose faceappeared at the window as soon as the train stopped.
"Is that your bundle, sir?" repeated Mr Blunt a little louder.
"Eh? yes, yes--all right," replied Edwin, annoyed at the interruption,and thinking only of Emma Lee, to whom he turned, and went on--"Well,when Colonel Jones had scaled the first wall--"
"Come, sir," said Blunt, entering the carriage, and laying his hand onEdwin's shoulder, "it's _not_ all right. This is another man'sproperty."
The youth turned round indignantly, and, with a flushed countenance,said, "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you are travelling with another man's property," saidBlunt, quietly pointing to the strapped rug.
"_That_ is not my property," said Edwin, looking at it with a perplexedair, "I never said it was."
"Didn't you though?" exclaimed Blunt, with an appealing look to thecaptain. "Didn't you say, when I asked you, `Yes, it's all right.'Moreover, young man, if it's not yours, why did you bring it into thecarriage with you?"
"_I_ did not bring it into the carriage," said Edwin, firmly, and withincreasing indignation. "I came down to this train with a lady, who isnow in it, and who can vouch for it that I brought no luggage of anykind with me. I--"
At this moment the elderly gentleman with brown top-coat and spectaclesbustled up to the carriage, recognised his rug, and claimed it, with agood deal of fuss and noise.
"Where are you travelling to?" demanded Blunt, with a touch of sarcasmin his tone.
Poor Gurwood's countenance fell. He became somewhat pale, and said, ina much less resolute voice, "You have no right to ask that question; butsince you suspect me, I may tell you that I am going to Langrye."
"Show your ticket," said the guard, looking in at that moment.
A glance showed the unhappy youth that Captain Lee was regarding himwith surprise and Emma with intense pity. Desperation gave him courage.He turned abruptly to the captain, and said--
"I regret deeply, sir, that we part with such a foul suspicion hangingover me. Come," he added sternly to Blunt, "I will go with you, andshall soon prove myself innocent."
He leaped to the platform, closely accompanied by Blunt.
"Where do you intend to take me?" he asked, turning to his guardian,whom he now knew to be a detective.
"Here, step this way," said Blunt, leading his prisoner towards the rearof the train.
"Such a nice-looking young man, too, who'd 'ave thought it!" whisperedone of the many heads that were thrust out at the carriage-windows tolook at him as he passed.
"Get in here," said Blunt, holding open the door of an emptysecond-class compartment of the same train; "we shan't want a ticket forthis part of the journey."
"But the lady I mentioned," said poor Edwin, "she can--"
"You can see her at Langrye, young man; come, get in," said Blunt,sternly, "the train's just starting."
Edwin's blood boiled. He turned to smite the acute-visaged man to theearth, but encountering the serene gaze of the magnificent guard whostood close beside him, he changed his mind and sprang into thecarriage. Blunt followed, the door was banged and locked, the signalwas given and the train moved on.
"Why do you take me to Langrye instead of back to town?" asked Edwin,after proceeding some distance in silence.
"Because we have an hour to wait for the up train, and it's pleasanterwaiting there than here," replied Blunt; "besides, I have business atLangrye; I want to see one of my friends there who is looking afterlight-fingered gentry."
As this was said significantly Edwin did not deign a reply, but, leaningback in a corner, gazed out at the window and brooded over his unhappyfate. Truly he had something to brood over. Besides being in theunpleasant position which we have described, he had quite recently losthis only relative, a "rich uncle," as he was called, who had broughtEdwin up and had led him to believe that he should be his heir. It wasfound, however, on the examination of the old gentleman's affairs, thathis fortune was a myth, and that his house, furniture, and personaleffects would have to be sold in order to pay his debts. When all wassettled, Edwin Gurwood found himself cast upon his own resources withgood health, a kind but wayward disposition, a strong handsome frame, amiddling education, and between three and four hundred pounds in hispocket. He soon found that this amount of capital melted with alarmingrapidity under the influence of a good appetite and expensive tastes, sohe resolved at once to co
mmence work of some kind. But what was he toturn to? His uncle had allowed him to do as he pleased. Naturally itpleased the energetic and enthusiastic boy to learn very little ofanything useful, to read an immense amount of light literature, and toindulge in much open-air exercise.
Bitterly did he now feel, poor fellow, that this course, althoughsomewhat pleasing at the time, did not fit him to use and enjoy the moreadvanced period of life. He had disliked and refused to sit still evenfor an hour at a time in boyhood; it now began to dawn upon him that hewas doomed for life to the greatest of all his horrors, the top of athree-legged stool! He had hated writing and figures, and now visionsof ledgers, cash-books, invoice-books and similar literature withendless arithmetical calculations began to float before his mentalvision. With intense regret he reflected that if he had only usedreasonably well the brief period of life which as yet lay behind him, hemight by that time have been done with initial drudgery and have beenentering on a brilliant career in one of the learned professions. As tothe army and navy, he was too old to get into either, even if he hadpossessed interest, which he did not. Sternly did he reproach hisdeparted uncle when he brooded over his wrongs, and soliloquisedthus:--"You ought to have known that I was a fool, that I could not beexpected to know the fact, or to guide myself aright in opposition toand despite of my own folly, and you ought to have forced me to studywhen I declined to be led--bah! it's too late to say all this now.Come, if there is any manhood in me worthy of the name, let me set towork at once and make the most of what is left to me!"
Edwin reflected with complacency on the fact that one part of what wasleft to him was a tall strong frame and broad shoulders, but hisjudgment told him that though these were blessings not to be despised,and for which he had every reason to be thankful, he ought not to plumehimself too much on them, seeing that he shared them in common withnumerous prize-fighters and burglars, besides which they could not proveof very much value professionally unless he took to mining orcoal-heaving. He also reflected sadly on the fact that beyond the threeR's, a little Latin and French, and a smattering of literary knowledge,he was little better than a red Indian. Being, as we have said, aresolute fellow, he determined to commence a course of study withoutdelay, but soon found that the necessity of endeavouring to obtain asituation and of economising his slender fortune interfered sadly withhis efforts. However, he persevered.
In the time of his prosperity, young Gurwood had made many friends, buta touch of pride had induced him to turn aside from these--although manyof them would undoubtedly have been glad to aid him in his aims--to quitthe house of his childhood and betake himself to the flourishing town ofClatterby, where he knew nobody except one soft amiable littleschool-fellow, whom in boyish days he had always deemed a poor,miserable little creature, but for whom nevertheless he entertained astrong affection. We need scarcely say that this was Joseph Tipps, theclerk at Langrye station.