Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

3 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

YHE DREAD SHADOW.

Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

YHE DREAD SHADOW. A CHRISTMAS STORY OF THE NORTH EXPRESS, By JOIIN PENDLETON. Author of Newspaper Reporting ia Olden Time aud To-day." CHAPTER 1. IN THE SIGNAL-BOX. enough, he added grimly, "but any man who takes to it-at any rate this department of it -is an ass. I'd rather be a chimney-sweep. He's only got to get up early in the morning -not to stop up all night, wandering about a boggy wilderness like a lunatic." Arnold, usually one of the most good- humoured and certainly one of the most capable reporters on the staff of an important English daily, was filled with chagrin. He had lost his way, and his temper, too; and for the loss of the latter perhaps there was some excuse. Two hours ago, when making himself com- fortable in his cosy room, as the host of a bachelor party, the telephone bell at hi* elbow rang fieroely, as though it would whirr his head off, and he rang back with apprehen- sion and disgust. "Are you there!" came the stereotyped inquiry. But it seemed on this night to have a sardonio ring in it. "Yes," he replied curtly. Is that Arnold?" Yes." The compliments of the season." "Thanks—same to you," he growls, cer- tain now that something unpleasant was coming. Sorry to drag you out; but there's been a big accident up Settle way. Will you get on there ? We don't issue on Christmas Day but perhaps you'll send us a good telegram tomorrow." Ye-es," he jerked ou t angrily through the tube to the newspaper offioe, and wished tele- phones and daily papers in Hades, Never- theless the journalistic instinct was strong within him. Ho told his guests to make bemselves at home, donned his ulster (for it was a bitter night), took a hansom, got to the itation in time for the last train; and was soon an his way to the north, The line was blocked at Devil's Bridge, the nearest station to the scene of the aocident, and he had to get the best way he could to the deep cutting in which the disaster had occurred. Along rudely-made lanes, and fields deep in snow-drifts, he had staggered until he reached the plantation. Therewassome aatisfaotion in going through it, however, for though he sustained many a knock against tree trunks, and once or twice was brought sprawling on his hands and knees by the trailing undergrowth, he knew he was nearing the railway track. He could hear voices. Then he saw the fiioker of fires and yonder looming shadowy in the distance something that looked like an express. Just below him, in the steep rugged cutting where the telegraph wires glistened with ice, and the rails curved through the snow like black serpents, there was a breadth of cheer- ful light. It came, it flashed from the signal- box, perched half way down the ravine on a projecting rock, A rude path led to it, and he let himself down, scrambling to the door. lie knooked; and the signalman, who had his right hand on a lever, shouted, Who's there? Come in." Arnold opened the door, entered the signal- box with a great gust of howling wind, and explained as tersely as possible his errand, while the signalman, busy with bell and dial, sent warnings up and down the line. The signalman, tall, with cadaverous face, deep-set eyes, iron-grey hair, and a habit of silence that bad come with much solitude, only answered questions. If a had lived in and near this cutting a long time, scarcely (jeein Aonl, except the flying figures of the engine driver and stoker on the express engine as it dashed by, or the phantom faces of the passengers as they peered up at him for a moment, and were whirled away into space. His only excitement had been signalling on to the next station-four beats of the bell 11 Train on the line," or seven beats of the needle to the left, Train passed without tail lamp." Possibly in the long dreary wintry days he had got a little sport and a little game—seen a hare caught napping and killed by a passing train, or a bird fly against the telegraph wires and kill itself. But he had few opportuni- ties of wagging his tongue. He had no idea of the delight of instructive and brilliant con- versation. He was morose and taoiturn with responsibility and loneliness; yet he felt a certain sort of contentment that he had managed to work his signals all right, so far, without appearing before a coroner's jury and being found guilty of manslaugter. -1 Is it much of an acoident ? asked Arnold, seating himself on a stool away from the gleaming levers, in order not to hamper the signalman in his work. There's been no accident,replied the man, grasping another lever and giving it a fierce pull, jerking it so emphatically that the lever's movement seemed to be part of the signalman's assertion-to olenoh it beyond contradiction. "But there's something wrong?"' hazarded Arnold incredulously. "No, there isn't," said the signalman shortly, beating the bell, frantically as it seemed, at least a dozen times. Why, we've had a telegram to say there's been a big aocidcnt to the express," retorted Arnold, mystified and half fearing that his journey and struggling had been in vain. Have yer ?" responded the signalman flowly, giving two impressive beats of the needle to the right to tell the man at the next box that the line was clear, "Yes here's the telegram," said Arnold quickly, pulling the crumpled pink paper out of his pocket. "It's fearful bad writing," remarked the signalman, glancing at it, and pondering, and then he added, All I can say is—it's a lie And he worked away at his levers again, with his head half-turned towards Arnold, but keeping a keen watch on the moving, gleaming bars, which, as they jumped and jerked to and fro, seemed to support his con- viction, and to oreak out the words: It's—a —lie It is a lie Then the levers and the belle and the needles became quiet suddenly, as though some giant grasp kept them all in check; and the signalman, with a twinkle in his eyes, put both his hands in his trousers' pockets, and leaning with his back against the window bar, ventured upon an original remark. "They generally is lies." Out came the words slowly and distinctly, just as if he was giving a signal, They ort to be warmed up as sends 'em!" But surely something has happened said Arnold in despair. 11 Well-surnniat 'as 'appened; but nowt's 'appened to t' train. T' line's clear, and she's just off yonder wi' 'er tail light all raight." Then what the-- is it ?" blurted out Arnold impatiently, irritated beyond polite- ness by so much mystery. Ar shud think t' wire is about t' forriner," replied the signalman, not in the least per- turbed. Foreigner !-what foreigner asked the reporter in amazement. Why t' chap under t' sack i' t' corner," he replied, pointing towards the farthest corner of the signal-box, nearest the ravine side. Arnold could just distinguish in the deep shadow something that lool,J like a human form. The light waa dim there, but Arnold could just distinguish in the deep shadow something that looked like a human form. H What-who is it?" he asked, a strange thrill creeping through him, as he grasped the signalman's left arm. H Nay, tha moanfc ax me," replied the signalman, taking his lamp, placing it on the floor, removing the sacking and old apparel, odorous of tram grease, from the pros- trate figure, and wiping the man's forehead (for it was a man) with a piece of cotton waste dipped in water. It's not a bit o' use axing me," he continued, tha man ax 'im ole ar know is 'e's a for- riner. He jumped out o't mail as she wor goin' round t'bend, aud 'e's got a bit knocked on t'head. He 'as been goin' it wi 'is lingo— a parley-vooing and a reisch-lahing, aud a whirlin' his arms about." There was no doubt about the man being a foreigner. There was nothing English about his pale oval face—a handsome face, with clear-out aquiline nose, and firm, de- termined mouth, and dark eyes that flashed with a beauteous light, even in delirium. There was a crafty, cunning look in them, too, as Arnold gazed into their depths, and the thought came un- bidden to the pressman's mind that this man, however capable he might be of good, was certainly apt at evil. In the fitful light of the lamp be had almost "There is something peeriny in!" a sardonic look, for his white face and black, carefully trimmed moustaohe worked strangely, and now and then he would shrug his shoulders in contempt, and fling back with a quiok movement of his left band the great mass of glossy waving hair from his forehead. The stranger, a well-dressed, well-set man, apparently about thirty, was evidently soothed by this habit of hair-flinging. Jt was just as if he lifted a great burden every time ho did it, and it quietd him, but not for long. 'Es at it agen," said the signalman, bend- ing over the foreigner. ,Jim's a of a time goin' for t' doetor. Ar shud a' thowt ed a' been back bi this." Whose Jim ?" asked Arnold, half in reverie, as he still gaznd into the stranger's face—and now noticed for the first time that near the right temple, which was away from the light, a little stream of blood was making a course for itself by the edge of the old sacking on the signal-box floor. Jim's t' lampman. He's gone to t' village for t' doctor but he's lame, and it's three miles off. Just hark at t' chap now," said the engineman, full of perplexity, as the foreigner, shrugging his shoulders and grimao- ing, poured out a torrent of words in a foreign tongue. What sort o' lingo do ye teink it is ? Ar nivver 'eard owt like it afore, tho' a once worked i a pit wi Joe Co wen's lot." U It's German," replied Arnold, who was a good linguist, and had studied the patois of many a tongue. I fancy he's a Badisher," he said, listening, and comprehending without Lmuoh difficulty tlje iiiiured man's mattering, I "Yo're reight enough," said the signalman, mistaking Arnold's refereno to the locality of the man's birth. He is baddish; ar reckon he's about as bad as he can be—he'll be dead afore t' doctor comes if Q'.vd Jim doesn't limp in wi' 'iyo soon." The words seemed likely to come speedily true. An ashen look crept over the foreigner's face; and his lips, though frequently mois- tened by the signalman's clumsy but kindly fingers, were livid and drawn. But his tongue was free, and he rattled out, with many a strange gesture, torrents of words that were Greek to the signalman, but easily understood by Arnold, who, bending over the moaning, wrestling figure, heard a startling story from its lips.

CHAPTER H.

CHAPTER HI. Iii