He was asleep when his father rose at last and buttoned his heavy coat up to the chin, while Mrs Marrot stood on tiptoe to arrange more carefully the woollen shawl round his neck.
Now, dont stand more than you can help on your hurt leg, John.
Certainly not, duckie, said John, stooping to kiss the upturned face; Ill sit on the rail as much as I can, like a Merican racoon. By the way, he added, turning suddenly to Loo, you delivered that note from young Mr Tipps to his mother?
Yes, immediately after I got it from you; and I waited to see if there was an answer, but she said there wasnt. It must have contained bad news, I fear, for she turned pale while she read it.
Hm, well, said John, putting on his cap, dont know nothin about what was in it, so its no bizzness o mine.
With a hearty good-evening to all, and a special embrace to Gertie, the engine-driver left his home, accompanied by Bob his hopeful son.
Mr Sharp, said Bob, as they walked along, has bin makin oncommon partikler inquiries among us about some o the porters. I raither think theyre a bad lot.
Not at all, replied his father severely. Theyre no more a bad lot than the drivers, or, for the matter of that, than the clerks or the directors, or the lamp-boys. You ought to be gittin old enough by this time, Bob, to know that every lot o fish in this world, however good, has got a few bad uns among em. As a rule railway directors and railway clerks, and railway porters and railway officials of all sorts are goodmore or lessthe same may be said of banks an insurances, an all sorts of thingsbut, do what ye may, a black sheep or two will git in among em, and, of course, the bigger the consarn, the more numerous the black sheep. Even the clergy aint free from that uniwersal law of natur. But whats Mr Sharp bin inquiring arter?
Ahwot indeed! replied Bob; ow should I know? Mr Sharp aint the man to go about the line with a ticket on his back tellin wot hes arter. By no means. Plice superintendents aint usually given to that; but hes arter somethin partickler.
Well, that aint no bizzness of ours, Bob, so we dont need to trouble our heads about it. Theres nothin like mindin yer own bizzness. Same time, added John after a short pause, thats no reason why, as a sea-farin friend o mine used to say, a man shouldnt keep his weather-eye open, dye see?
Bob intimated that he did see, by winking with the eye that chanced to be next his parent; but further converse between father and son was interrupted at a turn in the road, where they were joined by a stout, broad-shouldered young man, whose green velveteen jacket vest, and trousers bespoke him a railway porter.
Evenin, Sam, said our driver with a friendly nod; goin on night dooty, eh?
Yes, worse luck, replied Sam, thrusting his powerful hands into his pockets.
Why so, Sam, you aint used to mind night dooty?
No more I do, said Sam testily, but my missus is took bad, and theres no one to look after her properlyfor that old ooman we got aint to be trusted. Tis a hard thing to have to go on night dooty when a higher dooty bids me stay at home.
There was a touch of deep feeling in the tone in which the latter part of Sam Natlys remark was uttered. His young wife, to whom he had been only a year married, had fallen into bad health, and latterly the doctors had given him little encouragement to hope for her recovery.
Sam, said John Marrot stopping, Ill go an send a friend, as I knows of, to look after yer wife.
A friend? said Sam; you cant mean any o your own family, John, for you havent got time to go back that length now, and
Well, never mind, Ive got time to go where Im agoin. You run on to the shed, Bob, and tell Garvie that Ill be there in fifteen minutes.
The engine-driver turned off abruptly, and, increasing his pace to a smart walk, soon stood before the door of one of those uncommonly small neat suburban villas which the irrigating influence of the Grand National Trunk Railway had caused to spring up like mushrooms around the noisy, smoky, bustling town of Clatterbyto the unspeakable advantage of that class of gentlefolk who possess extremely limited incomes, but who, nevertheless, prefer fresh air to smoke.
Is your missus at ome? he inquired of the stout elderly woman who answered to his modest summonsfor although John was wont to clatter and bang through the greater part of his daily and nightly career, he was tender of touch and act when out of his usual professional beat.
Yes; do you wish to see her?
I does, my dear. Sorry I avent got a card with me, but if youll just say that its John Marrot, the engine-driver, I dessay thatll do for a free pass.
The elderly woman went off with a smile, but returned quickly with an anxious look, and bade the man follow her. He was ushered into a small and poorly furnished but extremely neat and clean parlour, where sat a thin little old lady in an easy-chair, looking very pale.
Evnin, maam, said John, bowing and looking rougher and bigger than usual in such a small apartment.
Youyoudont bring bad news, I hope!my son Joseph
Oh no, Mrs Tipps, not by no means, said Marrot, hasting to relieve the timid old ladys feelings, Mr Joseph is all rightnothing wotiver wrong with himnor likely to be, maam. Leastwise he wos all right wen I seed im last.
And when might that be? asked the timid old lady with a sigh of relief as she clasped her hands tightly together.
Wy, let me see, said John, touching his forehead, it was yesterday evenin wen I came up with the northern express.
But many accidents might have happened since yesterday evening, said Mrs Tipps, still in an anxious tone.
Thats true, maam. All the engines on the Grand Trunk from the Pentland Firth to the Channel might have busted their bilers since that timebut it aint likely, replied John, with a bland smile.
Andand what was my son doing when you passed him? Did you speak to him?
Speak to him! Bless your heart, maam, said John, with another benignant smile, I went past Langrye station at sixty mile an hour, so we hadnt much chance to speak to each other. It would have been as much as we could have managed, if wed tried it, to exchange winks.
Dreadful! exclaimed Mrs Tipps in a low tone. Is that the usual rate of travelling on your railway?
Oh dear no, maam. Its only my express train as goes at that rate. Other expresses run between forty and fifty miles, an ornary trains average about thirty miles an hourgoods, they go at about twenty, more or less; but they varies a good deal. The train I drives is about the fastest in the kingdom, wich is pretty much the same as sayin its the fastest in the world, maam. Sometimes Im obleeged to go as high as nigh seventy miles an hour to make up time.
The fastest mail-coaches in my young days, said Mrs Tipps, used to go at the rate of ten miles an hour, I believe.
Pretty much so, said John. They did manage a mile or two more, Im told, but that was their average of crawlin with full steam on.
And you sometimes drive at sixty or seventy miles an hour?
Yes, maam.