16. _Hard Pressed_
"Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles, How he outruns the wind, and with what care He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles: The many musets through the which he goes Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes."
As soon as the gate was opened, Paul went through mechanically with theothers on to the platform, and waited at the bookstall while theychanged the paper. He knew well enough that what had seemed at the timea stroke of supreme cunning would now only land him in freshdifficulties, if indeed it did not lead to the detection of his scheme.But he dared not interfere and prevent them from making the unluckyexchange. Something seemed to tie his tongue, and in sullen leadenapathy he resigned himself to whatever might be in store for him.
They passed out again by the booking-office. There was the old ladystill at the pigeon-hole, trying to persuade the much-enduring clerk torestore a lucky sixpence she had given him by mistake, and was quiteunable to describe. Mr. Bultitude would have given much just then to goup and shake her into hysterics, or curse her bitterly for the mischiefshe had done; but he refrained, either from an innate chivalry, or froma feeling that such an outburst would be ill-judged.
So, silent and miserable, with slow step and hanging head, he set outwith his gaolers to render himself up once more at his house ofbondage--a sort of involuntary Regulus, without the oath.
"Dickie, you were very anxious to run just now," observed Chawner,after they had gone some distance on their homeward way.
"We were late for tea--late for tea," explained Paul hastily.
"If you think the tea worth racing like that for, I don't," said Coggsviciously; "it's muck."
"You don't catch me racing, except for something worth having," saidCoker.
One more flash of distinct inspiration came to Paul's aid in the verydepths of his gloom. It was, in fact, a hazy recollection from Englishhistory of the ruse by which Edward I., when a prince, contrived toescape from his captors at Hereford Castle.
"Why--why," he said excitedly, "would you race if you had somethingworth racing for, hey? would you now?"
"Try us!" said Coker emphatically.
"What do you call 'something'?" inquired Chawner suspiciously.
"Well," said Mr. Bultitude; "what do you say to a shilling?"
"You haven't got a shilling," objected Coggs.
"Here's a shilling, see," said Paul, producing one. "Now then, I'll givethis to any boy I see get into tea first!"
"Bultitude thinks he can run," said Coker, with an amiable unbelief inany disinterestedness. "He means to get in first and keep the shillinghimself, I know."
"I'll back myself to run him any day," put in Coggs.
"So will I," added Chawner.
"Well, is it agreed?" Paul asked anxiously. "Will you try?"
"All right," said Chawner. "You must give us a start to the nextlamp-post, though. You stay here, and when we're ready we'll say 'off'!"
They drew a line on the path with their feet to mark Paul's startingpoint, and went on to the next lamp. After a moment or two of anxiouswaiting he heard Coggs shout, all in one breath, "One-two-three-off!"and the sound of scampering feet followed immediately.
It was a most exciting and hotly contested race. Paul saw them for onebrief moment in the lamplight. He saw Chawner scudding down the pathlike some great camel, and Coker squaring his arms and working them asif they were wings. Coggs seemed to be last.
He ran a little way himself just to encourage them, but, as the sound oftheir feet grew fainter and fainter, he felt that his last desperateruse had taken effect, and with a chuckle at his own cleverness, turnedround and ran his fastest in the opposite direction. He felt little orno interest in the result of the race.
Once more he entered the booking-office and, kneeling on a chair,consulted the time-board that hung on the wall over the sheaf of textsand the missionary box.
The next train was not until 7.25. A whole hour and twenty-five minutesto wait! What was he to do? Where was he to pass the weary time tillthen? If he lingered on the platform he would assuredly be recaptured.His absence could not remain long undiscovered and the station would bethe first place they would search for him.
And yet he dared not wander away from the neighbourhood of the station.If he kept to the shops and lighted thoroughfares he might be recognisedor traced. If, on the other hand, he went out farther into the country(which was utterly unknown to him), he had no watch, and it would beonly too easy to lose his way, or miscalculate time and distance in thedarkness.
To miss the next train would be absolutely fatal.
He walked out upon the platform, and on past the refreshment and waitingrooms, past the weighing machine, the stacked trucks and the lamp-room,meeting and seen by none--even the boy at the bookstall was busy withbread and butter and a mug of tea in a dark corner, and never noticedhim.
He went on to the end of the platform where the planks sloped gentlydown to a wilderness of sheds, coaling stages and sidings; he could justmake out the bulky forms of some tarpaulined cattle-vans and opencoal-trucks standing on the lines of metals which gleamed in the scantygaslights.
It struck him that one of these vans or trucks would serve his purposeadmirably, if he could only get into it, and very cautiously he pickedhis way over the clogging ballast and rails, till he came to a lownarrow strip of platform between two sidings.
He mounted it and went on till he came to the line of trucks and vansdrawn up alongside; the vans seemed all locked, but at the end he foundan empty coal-waggon in which he thought he could manage to concealhimself and escape pursuit till the longed-for 7.25 train should arriveto relieve him.
He stepped in and lay down in one corner of it, listening anxiously forany sound of search, but hearing nothing more than the dismal dirge ofthe telegraph wires overhead; he soon grew cold and stiff, for hisenforced attitude was far from comfortable, and there was more coal-dustin his chosen retreat than he could have wished. Still it was secludedenough; it was not likely that it would occur to anyone to look for himthere. Ten days ago Mr. Paul Bultitude would have found it hard toconceive himself lying down in a hard and grimy coal-truck to escape hisson's schoolmaster, but since then he had gone through too much that wasunprecedented and abnormal to see much incongruity in his situation--itwas all too hideously real to be a nightmare.
But even here he was not allowed to remain undisturbed; after about halfan hour, when he was beginning to feel almost secure, there came a sharptwanging of wires beneath, and two short strokes of a bell in thesignal-box hard by.
He heard some one from the platform, probably the station-master,shout, "Look alive, there, Ing, Pickstones, some of you. There's thosethree trucks on the A siding to go to Slopsbury by the 6.30luggage--she'll be in in another five minutes."
There were steps as if some persons were coming out of a cabinopposite--they came nearer and nearer: "These three, ain't it, Tommy?"said a gruff voice, close to Paul's ear.
"That's it, mate," said another, evidently Tommy's--"get 'em along up tothe points there. Can't have the 6.30 standing about on this 'ere lineall night, 'cos of the Limited. Now then, all together, shove! they'vegot the old 'orse on at the other end."
And to Paul's alarm he felt the truck in which he was begin to moveponderously on the greasy metals, and strike the next with its bufferswith a jarring shock and a jangling of coupling chains.
He could not stand this; unless he revealed himself at once, or managedto get out of this delusive waggon, the six-whatever-it-was train wouldbe up and carry him off to Slopsbury, a hundred miles or so farther fromhome; they would have time to warn Dick--he would be expected--ambusheslaid for him, and his one chance would be gone for ever!
There was a whistle far away on the down line, and that hummingvibration which announces an approaching train: not a moment to lose--hewas afraid to attempt a leap from the moving waggons, and resolved torisk all and show himself.
With this intention he got
upon his knees, and putting his head abovethe dirty bulwark, looked over and said softly, "Tommy, I say, Tommy!"
A porter, who had been laboriously employed below, looked up with awhite and scared face, and staggered back several feet; Mr. Bultitude ina sudden panic ducked again.
"Bill!" Paul heard the porter say hoarsely, "I'll take my Bible oathI've never touched a drop this week, not to speak of--but I've got 'emagain, Bill, I've got 'em again!"
"Got what agin?" growled Bill. "What's the matter now?"
"It's the jumps, Bill," gasped the other, "the 'orrors--they've got meand no mistake. As I'm a livin' man, as I was a shovin' of that theretruck, I saw a imp--a gashly imp, Bill, stick its hugly 'ed over theside and say, 'Tommy,' it ses, jest like that--it ses, 'Tommy, I wantsyou!' I dursn't go near it, Bill. I'll get leave, and go 'ome and layup--it glared at me so 'orrid, Bill, and grinned--ugh! I'll take thepledge after this 'ere, I will--I'll go to chapel Sundays reg'lar!"
"Let's see if there ain't something there first," said the practicalBill. "Easy with the 'oss up there. Now then," here he stepped on thebox of the wheel and looked in. "Shin out of this, whatever y'are, wedon't contrack to carry no imps on this line--Well, if ever I--Tommy,old man, it's all right, y'ain't got 'em this time--'ere's yer imp!"
And, reaching over, he hauled out the wretched Paul by the scruff of hisneck in a state of utter collapse, and deposited him on the groundbefore him.
"That ain't your private kerridge, yer know, that ain't--there wasn't nobed made up there for you, that I know on. You ain't arter no good, now;you're a wagabone! that's about your size, I can see--what d'yer mean byit, eh?"
"Shet yer 'ed, Bill, will yer?" said Tommy, whose relief probablysoftened his temper, "this here's a young gent."
"Young gent, or no young gent," replied Bill sententiously, "he's nocall to go 'idin' in our waggins and givin' 'ard-workin' men a turn.'Old 'im tight, Tommy--here's the luggage down on us."
Tommy held him fast with a grip of iron, while the other porters coupledthe trucks, and the luggage train lumbered away with its load.
After this the men slouched up and stood round their captive, staringat him curiously.
"Look here, my men," said Paul, "I've run away from school, I want to goon to town by the next train, and I took the liberty of hiding in thetruck, because the schoolmaster will be up here very soon to look forme--you understand?"
"I understand," said Bill, "and a nice young party _you_ are."
"I--I don't want to be caught," said Paul.
"Naterally," assented Tommy sympathetically.
"Well, can't you hide me somewhere where he won't see me? Come, you cando that?"
"What do you say, Bill?" asked Tommy.
"What'll the Guv'nor say?" said Bill dubiously.
"I've got a little money," urged Paul. "I'll make it worth your while."
"Why didn't you say that afore?" said Bill; "the Guv'nor needn't know."
"Here's half-a-sovereign between you," said Paul, holding it out.
"That's something like a imp," said Tommy warmly; "if all bogeys actedas 'andsome as this 'ere, I don't care how often they shows theirselves.We'll have a supper on this, mates, and drink young Delirium Trimminses'jolly good 'ealth. You come along o' me, young shaver, I'll stow youaway right enough, and let you out when yer train comes in."
He led Paul on to the platform again and opened a sort of cupboard orcloset. "That's where we keeps the brooms and lamp-rags, and them," hesaid; "it ain't what you may call tidy, but if I lock you in no onewon't trouble you."
It was perfectly dark and the rags smelt unpleasantly, but Mr. Bultitudewas very glad of this second ark of refuge, even though he did bruisehis legs over the broom-handles; he was gladder still by-and-by, when heheard a rapid heavy footfall outside, and a voice he knew only toowell, saying, "I want to see the station-master. Ha, there he is. Goodevening, station-master, you know me--Dr. Grimstone, of Crichton House.I want you to assist me in a very unpleasant affair--the fact is, one ofmy pupils has had the folly and wickedness to run away."
"You don't say so!" said the station-master.
"It's only too true, I'm sorry to say; he seemed happy and contentedenough, too; it's a black ungrateful business. But I must catch him, youknow; he must be about here somewhere, I feel sure. You don't happen tohave noticed a boy who looked as if he belonged to me? They can't tellme at the booking-office."
How glad Paul was now he had made no inquiries of the station-master!
"No," said the latter, "I can't say I have, sir, but some of my men mayhave come across him. I'll inquire--here, Ing, I want you; thisgentleman here has lost one of his boys, have you seen him?"
"What sort of a young gentleman was he to look at?" Paul heard Tommy'svoice ask.
"A bright intelligent-looking boy," said the Doctor, "medium height,about thirteen, with auburn hair."
"No, I ain't seen no intelligent boys with median 'eight," said Tommyslowly, "not leastways, to speak to positive. What might he 'ave on,now, besides his oburn 'air?"
"Black cloth jacket, with a wide collar," was the answer; "greytrousers, and a cloth cap with a leather peak."
"Oh," said Tommy, "then I see 'im."
"When--where?"
"'Bout arf an 'our since."
"Do you know where he is now?"
"Well," said Tommy, to Paul's intense horror, for he was listening,quaking, to every word of this conversation, which was held just outsidehis cupboard door.
"I dessay I could give a guess if I give my mind to it."
"Out with it, Ing, now, if you know; no tricks," said thestation-master, who had apparently just turned to go away. "Excuse me,sir, but I've some matters in there to see after."
When he had gone, the Doctor said rather heatedly, "Come, you're keepingsomething from me, I _will_ have it out of you. If I find you havedeceived me, I'll write to the manager and get you sent about yourbusiness--you'd better tell me the truth."
"You see," said Tommy, very slowly, and reluctantly, "that young gent o'yourn _was_ a gent."
"I tried my very best to render him so," said the Doctor stiffly, "hereis the result--how did you discover he was one, pray?"
"'Cos he acted like a gent," said Tommy; "he took and give me a'arf-suffering."
"Well, I'll give you another," said the Doctor, "if you can tell mewhere he is."
"Thankee, sir, don't you be afraid--you're a gent right enough, too,though you do 'appen to be a schoolmaster."
"Where is the unhappy boy?" interrupted the Doctor.
"Seems as if I was a roundin' on 'im, like, don't it a'most, sir?" saidTommy, with too evident symptoms of yielding in his voice. Paul shook soin his terror that he knocked down a broom or two with a clatter whichfroze his blood.
"Not at all," said the Doctor, "not at all, my good fellow;you're--ahem--advancing the cause of moral order."
"Oh, ah," said Tommy, obviously open to conviction. "Well, if I'm adoin' all that, I can't go fur wrong, can I? And arter all, we mayn'tlike schools or schoolmasters, not over above, but we can't get onwithout 'em, I s'pose. But, look ye here, sir--if I goes and tells youwhere you can get hold of this here boy, you won't go and wallop himnow, will ye?"
"I can make no bargains," said the Doctor; "I shall act on my owndiscretion."
"That's it," said Tommy, unaccountably relieved, "spoke like a mercifulChristian gen'leman; if you don't go actin' on nothing more nor yourdiscretion, you can't hurt him much, I take it. Well then, since you'vespoke out fair, I don't mind putting you on his track like."
If the door of the cupboard had not been locked, Paul would undoubtedlyhave burst out and yielded himself up, to escape the humiliation ofbeing sold like this by a mercenary and treacherous porter. As it was,he had to wait till the inevitable words should be spoken.
"Well, you see," went on Tommy, very slowly, as if struggling with theremnants of a conscience, "it was like this here--he comes up to me, andsays--your young gen'leman, I mean--says he, 'Porter,
I wants to 'ide,I've run away.' And I says to him, says I, 'It's no use your 'angingabout 'ere,' I says, ''cause, if you do, your guv'nor (meanin' nooffence to you, sir) 'll be comin' up and ketchin' of you on the 'op.''Right you are, porter,' says he to me, 'what do you advise?' he says.'Well,' I says, 'I don't know as I'm right in givin' you no advice atall, havin' run away from them as has the care on you,' I says; 'but if_I_ was a young gen'leman as didn't want to be ketched, I should justwalk on to Dufferton; it ain't on'y three mile or so, and you'll 'avetime for to do it before the up-train comes along there.' 'Thankee,porter,' he says, 'I'll do that,' and away he bolts, and for anything Iknow, he's 'arf way there by this time."
"A fly!" shouted the Doctor excitedly, when Tommy had come to the end ofhis veracious account. "I'll catch the young rascal now--who has a goodhorse? Davis, I'll take you. Five shillings if you reach Duffertonbefore the up-train. Take the----"
The rest was lost in the banging of the fly door and the rumble ofwheels; the terrible man had been got safely off on a wrong scent, andPaul fell back amongst the lumber in his closet, faint with the suspenseand relief.
Presently he heard Tommy's chuckling whisper through the keyhole: "Areyou all right in there, sir? he's safe enough now--orf on a prettydance. You didn't think I was goin' to tell on ye, did ye now? I ain'tquite sech a cur as that comes to, particular when a young gent saves mefrom the 'orrors, and gives me a 'arf-suffering. I'll see you through,you make yourself easy about that."
Half an hour went slowly by for Mr. Bultitude in his darkness andsolitude. The platform gradually filled, as he could tell by the treadof feet, the voices, and the scent of cigars, and at last, welcomesound, he heard the station bell ringing for the up-train.
It ran in the next minute, shaking the cupboard in which Paul crouched,till the brushes rattled. There was the usual blind hurry and confusionoutside as it stopped. Paul waited impatiently inside. The time passed,and still no one came to let him out. He began to grow alarmed. CouldTommy have forgotten him? Had he been sent away by some evil chance atthe critical moment? Two or three times his excited fancy heard thefatal whistle sound for departure. Would he be left behind after all?
But the next instant the door was noiselessly unlocked. "Couldn't do itafore," said honest Tommy. "Our guv'nor would have seen me. Now's yourtime. Here's a empty first-class coach I've kept for ye. In with younow."
He hoisted Paul up the high footboard to an empty compartment, and shutthe door, leaving him to sink down on the luxurious cushions inspeechless and measureless content. But Tommy had hardly done so beforehe reappeared and looked in. "I say," he suggested, "if I was you, I'dget under the seat before you gets to Dufferton, otherways yourguv'nor'll be spottin' you. I'll lock you in."
"I'll get under now; some one might see me here," said Paul; and, tooanxious for safety to thank his preserver, he crawled under the low,blue-cushioned seat, which left just room enough for him to lie there ina very cramped and uncomfortable position. Still he need not stay thereafter the train had once started, except for five minutes or so atDufferton.
Unfortunately he had not been long under the seat before he heard twoloud imperious voices just outside the carriage door.
"Porter! guard! Hi, somebody! open this door, will you; it's locked."
"This way, sir," he heard Tommy's voice say outside. "Plenty of roomhigher up."
"I don't want to go higher up. I'll go here. Just open it at once, Itell you."
The door was opened reluctantly, and two middle-aged men came in."Always take the middle carriage of a train," said the first. "Safest inany accident, y'know. Never heard of a middle carriage of a traingetting smashed up, to speak of."
The other sat heavily down just over Paul, with a comfortable grunt, andthe train started, Paul feeling naturally annoyed by this intrusion, asit compelled him to remain in seclusion for the whole of the journey."Still," he thought, "it is lucky that I had time to get under herebefore they came in; it would have seemed odd if I had done itafterwards." And he resigned himself to listen to the conversation whichfollowed.
"What was it we were talking about just now?" began the first. "Let mesee. Ah! I remember. Yes; it was a very painful thing--very, indeed, Iassure you."
There is a certain peculiar and uncomfortable suspicion that attacksmost of us at times, which cannot fairly be set down wholly toself-consciousness or an exaggerated idea of our own importance. I meanthe suspicion that a partly-heard conversation must have ourselves forits subject. More often than not, of course, it proves utterlyunfounded, but once in a way, like most presentiments, it finds itselfunpleasantly fulfilled.
Mr. Bultitude, though he failed to recognise either of the voices, wassomehow persuaded that the conversation had something to do withhimself, and listened with eager attention.
"Yes," the speaker continued; "he was never, according to what I hear, aman of any extraordinary capacity, but he was always spoken of as a manof standing in the City, doing a safe business, not a risky one, and soon, you know. So, of course, his manner, when I called, shocked me allthe more."
"Ah!" said the other. "Was he violent or insulting, then?"
"No, no! I can only describe his conduct as eccentric--what one mightcall reprehensibly eccentric and extravagant. I didn't call exactly inthe way of business, but about a poor young fellow in my house, who is,I fear, rather far gone in consumption, and, knowing he was a LifeGovernor, y'know, I thought he might give me a letter for the hospital.Well, when I got up to Mincing Lane----"
Paul started. It was as he had feared, then; they _were_ speaking ofhim!
"When I got there, I sent in my card with a message that, if he wasengaged or anything, I would take the liberty of calling at his privatehouse, and so on. But they said he would see me. The clerk who showed mein said: 'You'll find him a good deal changed, if you knew him, sir.We're very uneasy about him here,' which prepared me for something outof the common. Well, I went into a sort of inner room, and there he was,in his shirt-sleeves, busy over some abomination he was cooking at thestove, with the office-boy helping him! I never was so taken aback in mylife. I said something about calling another time, but Bultitude----"
Paul groaned. The blow had fallen. Well, it was better to be preparedand know the worst.
"Bultitude says, just like a great awkward schoolboy, y'know, 'What'syour name? How d'ye do? Have some hardbake, it's just done?' Fancyfinding a man in his position cooking toffee in the middle of the day,and offering it to a perfect stranger!"
"Softening of the brain--must be," said the other.
"I fear so. Well, he asked what I wanted, and I told him, and heactually said he never did any business now, except sign his name wherehis clerks told him. He'd worked hard all his life, he said, and he wastired of it. Business was, I understood him to say, 'all rot!'"
"Then he wouldn't promise me votes or give me a letter or anything,without consulting his head clerk; he seemed to know nothing whateverabout it himself, and when that was over, he asked me a quantity offrivolous questions which appeared to have a sort of catch in them, asfar as I could gather, and he was exceedingly angry when I wouldn'thumour him."
"What kind of questions?"
"Well, really I hardly know. I believe he wanted to know whether I wouldrather be a bigger fool than I looked or look a bigger fool than I was,and he pressed me quite earnestly to repeat some foolishness after him,about 'being a gold key,' when he said 'he was a gold lock,' I was veryglad to get away from him, it was so distressing."
"They tell me he has begun to speculate, too, lately," said the other."You see his name about in some very queer things. It's a pitiful affairaltogether."
Paul writhed under his seat with shame. How could he, even if hesucceeded in ousting Dick and getting back his old self, how could heever hold up his head again after this?
Why, Dick must be mad. Even a schoolboy would have had more caution whenso much depended on it. But none would suspect the real cause of thechange. These horrible tales were no
doubt being circulated everywhere!
The conversation fell back into a less personal channel again afterthis; they talked of "risks," of some one who had only been "writing" ayear and was doing seven thousand a week, of losses they had been "on,"and of the uselessness of "writing five hundred on everything," andwhile at this point the train slackened and stopped--they had reachedDufferton.
There was an opening of doors all along the train, and sounds of someinquiry and answer at each. The voices became audible at length, and, ashe had expected, Paul found that the Doctor, not having discovered himon the platform, was making a systematic search of the train, evidentlybelieving that he had managed to slip in somewhere unobserved.
It was a horrible moment when the door of his compartment was flung openand a stream of ice-cold air rushed under the blue cloth which,fortunately for Paul, hung down almost to the floor.
Some one held a lantern up outside, and by its rays Paul saw from behindthe hanging the upper half of Dr. Grimstone appear, very pale andpolite, at the doorway. He remained there for some moments withoutspeaking, carefully examining every corner of the compartment.
The two men on the seats drew their wraps about them and shivered, untilat length one said rather testily--"Get in, sir; kindly get in if you'recoming on, please. This draught is most unpleasant!"
"I do not propose to travel by this train, sir," said the Doctor; "but,as a person entrusted with the care of youth, permit me to inquirewhether you have seen (or, it may be assisted to conceal) a small boy ofintelligent appearance----"
"Why should we conceal small boys of intelligent appearance about us,pray?" demanded the man who had described his visit to Mincing Lane."And may we ask you to shut that door, and make any communications youwish to make through the window, or else come in and sit down?"
"That's not an answer to my question, sir," retorted the Doctor. "Inotice you carefully decline to say whether you have seen a boy. Iconsider your manner suspicious, sir; and I shall insist on searchingthis carriage through and through till I find that boy!"
Mr. Bultitude rolled himself up close against the partition at theseawful words.
"Guard, guard!" shouted the first gentleman. "Come here. Here's aviolent person who will search this carriage for something he has lost.I won't be inconvenienced in this way without any reason whatever! Hesays we're hiding a boy in here!"
"Guard!" said the Doctor, quite as angrily, "I insist upon looking underthese seats before you start the train. I've looked through every othercarriage and he must be in here. Gentlemen, let me pass, I'll get him ifI have to travel in this compartment to town with you!"
"For peace and quietness sake, gentlemen," said the guard, "let him lookround, just to ease his mind. Lend me your stick a minute, sir, please.I'll turn him out if he's anywhere about this here compartment!"
And with this he pulled Dr. Grimstone down from the footboard andmounted it himself; after which he began to rummage about under theseats with the Doctor's heavy stick.
Every lunge found out some tender part in Mr. Bultitude's person andcaused him exquisite torture; but he clenched his teeth hard to preventa sound, while he thought each fresh dig must betray his whereabouts.
"There," said the guard at last; "there really ain't no one there, sir,you see. I've felt everywhere and---- Hello, I certainly did feelsomething just then, gentlemen!" he added, in an undertone, after alunge which took all the breath out of Paul's body. All was lost now!
"You touch that again with that confounded stick if you dare!" said oneof the passengers. "That's a parcel of mine. I won't have you pokingholes through it in that way. Don't tell that lunatic behind you, he'llbe wanting it opened to see if his boy's inside! Now perhaps you'll letus alone!"
"Well, sir," said the guard at last to the Doctor, as he withdrew, "heain't in there. There's nothing under any of the seats. Your boy'll becomin' on by the next train, most likely--the 8.40. We're all behind.Right!"
"Good night, sir," said the first passenger as he leant out of thewindow, to the baffled schoolmaster on the platform. "You've put us toall this inconvenience for nothing, and in the most offensive way too. Ihope you won't find your boy till you're in a better temper, for hissake."
"If I had you out on this platform, sir," shouted the angry Doctor, "I'dhorsewhip you for that insult. I believe the boy's there and you knowit. I----"
But the train swept off and, to Paul's joy and thankfulness, soon leftthe Doctor, gesticulating and threatening, miles behind it.
"What a violent fellow for a schoolmaster, eh?" said one of Paul'scompanions, when they were fairly off again. "I wasn't going to have himturning the cushions inside out here; we shouldn't have settled downagain before we got in!"
"No; and if the guard hasn't, as it is, injured that Indian shawl in myparcel, I shall be---- Why, bless my soul, that parcel's not under theseat after all! It's up in the rack. I remember putting it there now."
"The guard must have fancied he felt something; and yet---- Look here,Goldicutt; just feel under here with your feet. It certainly does seemas if something soft was--eh?"
Mr. Goldicutt accordingly explored Paul's ribs with his boot for somemoments, which was very painful.
"Upon my word," he said at last, "it really does seem very like it. It'snot hard enough for a bag or a hat-box. It yields distinctly when youkick it. Can you fetch it out with your umbrella, do you think? Shall wetell the guard at the next----? Lord, it's coming out of its own accord.It's a dog! No, my stars--it's the boy, after all!"
For Paul, alarmed at the suggestion about the guard, once more feltinclined to risk the worst and reveal himself. Begrimed with coal,smeared with whitewash, and covered with dust and flue, he crawledslowly out and gazed imploringly up at his fellow-passengers.
After the first shock of surprise they lay back in their seats andlaughed till they cried.
"Why, you young rascal!" they said, when they recovered breath, "youdon't mean to say you've been under there the whole time?"
"I have indeed," said Paul. "I--I didn't like to come out before."
"And are you the boy all this fuss was about? Yes? And we kept theschoolmaster off without knowing it! Why, this is splendid, capital!You're something like a boy, you little dog, you! This is the best jokeI've heard for many a day!"
"I hope," said Paul, "I haven't inconvenienced you. I could not help it,really."
"Inconvenienced us? Gad, your schoolmaster came very nearinconveniencing us and you too. But there, he won't trouble any of usnow. To think of our swearing by all our gods there was no boy in here,and vowing he shouldn't come in, while you were lying down there underthe seat all the time! Why, it's lovely! The boy's got pluck and mannerstoo. Shake hands, young gentleman, you owe us no apologies. I haven'thad such a laugh for many a day!"
"Then you--you won't give me up?" faltered poor Paul.
"Well," said the one who was called Goldicutt, and who was a jovial oldgentleman with a pink face and white whiskers, "we're not exactly goingto take the trouble of getting out at the next station, and bringingyou back to Dufferton, just to oblige that hot-tempered master of yours,you know; he hasn't been so particularly civil as to deserve that."
"But if he were to telegraph and get some one to stop me at St.Pancras?" said Paul nervously.
"Ah, he might do that, to be sure--sharp boy this--well, as we've goneso far, I suppose we must go through with the business now and smugglethe young scamp past the detectives, eh, Travers?"
The younger man addressed assented readily enough, for the Doctor hadbeen so unfortunate as to prejudice them both from the first by hisunjustifiable suspicions, and it is to be feared they had no scruples inhelping to outwit him.
Then they noticed the pitiable state Mr. Bultitude was in, and he had togive them a fair account of his escape and subsequent adventures, atwhich even their sympathy could not restrain delighted shouts oflaughter--though Paul himself saw little enough in it all to laugh at;they asked his name, which he thought more prudent,
for various reasons,to give as "Jones," and other details, which I am afraid he invented ashe went on, and altogether they reached Kentish Town in a state of highsatisfaction with themselves and their protege.
At Kentish Town there was one more danger to be encountered, for withthe ticket collector there appeared one of the station inspectors. "Begpardon, gentlemen," said the latter, peering curiously in, "but doesthat young gent in the corner happen to belong to either of you?"
The white-whiskered gentleman seemed a little flustered at thisdownright inquiry, but the other was more equal to the occasion. "Do youhear that, Johnny, my boy," he said, to Paul (whom they had managedduring the journey to brush and scrape into something approachingrespectability), "they want to know if you belong to me. I supposeyou'll allow a son to belong to his father to a certain extent, eh?" heasked the inspector.
The man apologised for what he conceived to be a mistake. "We've ordersto look out for a young gent about the size of yours, sir," heexplained; "no offence meant, I'm sure," and he went away satisfied.
A very few minutes more and the train rolled in to the terminus, underthe same wide arch beneath which Paul had stood, helpless andbewildered, a week ago.
"Now my advice to you, young man," said Mr. Goldicutt, as he put Paulinto a cab, and pressed half-a-sovereign into his unwilling hand, "is togo straight home to Papa and tell him all about it. I daresay he won'tbe very hard on you--here's my card, refer him to me if you like.Good-night, my boy, good-night, and good luck to you. Gad, the best jokeI've had for years!"
And the cab rolled away, leaving them standing chuckling on theplatform, and, as Paul found himself plunging once more into the welcomeroar and rattle of London streets, he forgot the difficulties anddangers that might yet lie before him in the thought that at last he wasbeyond the frontier, and, for the first time since he had slippedthrough the playground gate, he breathed freely.