“Idon’tseethatthere’sanychance,anyway,ofmygettingoverintimenow,“heremarked。“Ifyou’lltakemeonwithyouasfarasNorwich,Icangoquietlyhomefromthere!“
“Youliveinthispartoftheworld,then?“Mr。Dunsterasked。
Theyoungmanassented。Againtherewasacertainamountofhesitationinhismanner。
“IlivesomedistancetheothersideofNorwich,“hesaid。“Idon’twanttospongeonyoutoomuch,“hewenton,“butifyou’rereallygoingtostickitoutandtryandgetthere,I’dliketogoon,too。
IamafraidIcan’toffertosharetheexpense,butI’dworkmypassageiftherewasanythingtobedone。“
Mr。Dunsterdrummedforamomentuponthetablewithhisfingers。
Allthetimetheyoungmanhadbeenspeaking,hiseyeshadbeenstudyinghisface。Heturnednowoncemoretohismap。
“Itwasmyidea,“hesaid,“tohireasteamtrawlerfromYarmouth。
IfIdoso,youcan,ifyouwish,accompanymesofarastheportatwhichwemaylandinHolland。Ontheotherhand,tobeperfectlyfrankwithyou,Ishouldprefertogoalone。Therewillbe,nodoubt,acertainamountofriskincrossingtonight。Myownbusinessisofimportance。Agolftournament,however,isscarcelyworthriskingyourlifefor,isit?“
“Oh,Idon’tknowaboutthat!“theyoungmanrepliedgrimly。“I
fancyIshouldratherlikeit。Let’sseewhetherwecangetontoNorwich,anyhow,shallwe?Wemayfindthattherearebridgesdownonthatline。“
Theyrelapsedoncemoreintosilence。Presentlytheguardreappeared。
“InstructionstotakeyouontoYarmouth,ifpossible,sir,“heannounced,“andtocollectthemileageatourdestination。“
“Thatwillbequitesatisfactory,“Mr。Dunsteragreed。“Letusbeoff,then,assoonaspossible。“Presentlytheycrawledon。TheypassedtheboattraininIpswichStation,wheretheystayedforafewmoments。Mr。Dunsterboughtwineandsandwiches,andhiscompanionfollowedhisexample。Thentheycontinuedtheirjourney。
Anhourormorepassed;thestormshowednosignsofabatement。
Theirspeednowrarelyexceededtenorfifteenmilesanhour。Mr。
Dunstersmokedallthetime,occasionallyrubbingthewindow-paneandtryingtolookout。GeraldFentolinsleptfitfully。
“Haveyouanyideawhereweare?“Mr。Dunsteraskedonce。
Theboycautiouslyletdownthewindowalittleway。Withthenoiseofthestormcameanothersound,towhichhelistenedforamomentwithpuzzledface:adull,rumblingsoundlikethefallingofwater。
Heclosedthewindow,breathless。
“Idon’tthinkwearefarfromNorwich。WepassedForncett,anyhow,sometimeago。“
“Stillraining?“
“Intorrents!Ican’tseeayardaheadofme。Ibetwegetsomefloodsafterthis。Iexpecttheyareoutnow,ifonecouldonlysee。“
Theycrepton。Suddenly,abovethestorm,theyheardwhatsoundedatfirstliketheboomingofagun,andthenashrillwhistlefromsomedistanceahead。Theyfeltthejerkastheirbrakeswerehastilyapplied,theswayingofthelittletrain,andthenthecrunchingofearthbeneaththem,theroarofescapingsteamastheirengineplougheditswayonintotheroadbed。
“Offtherails!“theboycried,springingtohisfeet。“Holdontightly,sir。I’dkeepawayfromthewindow。“
Thecarriageswayedandrocked。Suddenlyatelegraphpostseemedtocomecrashingthroughthewindowandthepolishedmahoganypanels。
Theyoungmanescapeditbyleapingtooneside。ItcaughtMr。
Dunster,whohadjustrisentohisfeet,upontheforehead。Therewasacrashallaroundofsplittingglass,afurthershock。Theywereboththrownofftheirfeet。Thelightwassuddenlyextinguished。
Withthecrashingofglass,thesplittingoftimber-ahideous,tearingsound-thewreckedsaloon,draggingtheenginehalf-wayoverwithit,slippeddownalowembankmentandlayonitsside,whatremainedofit,inafieldofturnips。
Astheyoungmanstaggeredtohisfeet,hehadsomehowasenseofdetachment,asthoughhewerecommencinganewlife,orhadsuddenlycomeintoanewexistence。Yethisimmediatesurroundingswerechargedwithuglyreminiscences。Throughagreatgapintheruinedsideofthesaloontherainwastearingin。Ashestoodup,hisheadcaughtthefragmentsoftheroof。Hewasabletopushbackthewreckagewitheaseandstepout。Foramomenthereeled,ashemettheviolenceofthestorm。Then,clutchingholdofthesideofthewreck,hesteadiedhimself。Alightwasmovingbackandforth,closeathand。Hecriedoutweakly:“Hullo!“
Amancarryingalantern,bentdoubleashemadehiswayagainstthewind,crawleduptothem。Hewasaporterfromthestationcloseathand。
“MyGod!“heexclaimed。“Anyonealivehere?“
“I’mallright,“Geraldmuttered,“atleast,IsupposeIam。What’sitall-what’sitallabout?We’vehadanaccident。“
Theportercaughtholdofapieceofthewreckagewithwhichtosteadyhimself。
“Yourtrainranrightintothreefeetofwater,“heanswered。“Therailshadgone-tornup。Thetelegraphline’sdown。“
“Whydidn’tyoustopthetrain?“
“Weweredoingallwecould,“themanretortedgloomily。“Weweren’texpectinganythingelsethroughto-night。We’damanalongthelinewithalantern,buthe’sjustbeenfoundblownovertheembankment,withhisheadinapoolofwater。Anyoneelseinyourcarriage?“
“Onegentlemantravellingwithme,“Geraldanswered。“We’dbettertrytogethimout。Whatabouttheguardandengine-driver?“
“Theengine-driverandstokerarebothalive,“theportertoldhim。
“IcameacrossthembeforeIsawyou。They’rebothknockedsortofsillylike,buttheyaren’tmuchhurt。Theguard’sstonedead。“
“Wherearewe?“
“AfewhundredyardsfromWymondham。Let’shavealookfortheothergentleman。“
Mr。JohnP。Dunsterwaslyingquitestill,hisrightlegdoubledup,andahugeblockoftelegraphpost,whichthesaloonhadcarriedwithitinitsfall,stillpressingagainsthisforehead。Hegroanedastheydraggedhimoutandlaidhimdownuponacushionintheshelterofthewreckage。
“He’saliveallright,“theporterremarked。“There’sadoctorontheway。Let’scoverhimupquickandwait。“
“Can’twecarryhimtoshelterofsomesortGeraldproposed。
Themanshookhishead。Speechofanysortwasdifficult。Evenwithhislipsclosetotheother’sears,hehadalmosttoshout。
“Couldn’tbedone,“hereplied。“It’sallonecandotowalkalonewhenyougetoutinthemiddleofthefield,awayfromtheshelteroftheembankmenthere。There’sbitsoftreesflyingalldownthelane。Neverwassuchanight!Folksisfairafraidofthemorningtoseewhat’shappened。There’samillblownrightoveronitssideinthenextfield,andthemaninchargeofitlyingdead。Thispoorchap’sbadenough。“
Gerald,onallfours,hadcreptbackintothecompartment。Thebottleofwinewassmashedintoatoms。Hecameout,draggingthesmalldressing-casewhichhiscompanionhadkeptonthetablebeforehim。Onesideofitwasdentedin,butthelock,whichwasofgreatstrength,stillheld。
“Perhapsthere’saflasksomewhereinthisdressing-case,“Geraldsaid。“Lendmeaknife。“
Strongthoughithadbeen,thelockwasalreadyalmosttornoutfromitsfoundation。Theyforcedthespringandopenedit。Theporterturnedhislanternonthewideningspace。JustasGeraldwasraisingthelidveryslowlytosavethecontentsfrombeingscatteredbythewind,themanturnedhisheadtoansweranapproachinghail。Geraldraisedthelidalittlehigherandsuddenlycloseditwithabang。
“There’sfolkscomingatlast!“theporterexclaimed,turningaroundexcitedly。“They’vebeenatimeandnomistake。Thevillageisn’taquarterofamileaway。Didyoufindaflask,sir?“
Geraldmadenoanswer。Thedressing-caseoncemorewasclosed,andhishandpresseduponthelid。Theporterturnedthelightuponhisfaceandwhistledsoftly。
“You’reaboutdoneyourself,sir,“heremarked。“Holdup。“
Hecaughttheyoungmaninhisarms。TherewasanotherroarinGerald’searsbesidestheroarofthewind。Hehadneverfaintedinhislife,butthefeelingwasuponhimnow-adeadlysickness,aswayingoftheearth。Theportersuddenlygavealittlecry。
“IfI’mnotabornidiot!“heexclaimed,drawingabottlefromthepocketofhiscoatwithhisdisengagedhand。“There’swhiskyhere。
Iwastakingithometothemissisforherrheumatism。Now,then。“
Hedrewthecorkfromthebottlewithhisteethandforcedsomeoftheliquidbetweenthelipsoftheyoungman。Thevoicesnowwerecomingnearerandnearer。Geraldmadeadesperateeffort。