Chapter X: A Pleasant Railway Journey

On the Thursday following the whole Stubbs family went to Brighton. Sarah enjoyed the journey intensely, journeys being still almost a novelty with her. She would have enjoyed it more if May had not grumbled at going second-class, and if Flossie and Tom had not vied with one another in trying how far they could lean out of either window of the carriage. Poor Miss Clark was almost beside herself with fright.

"Tom, put your head in immediately," she cried in desperation, and expecting every moment to see the door fly open and Tom shoot out headlong, to be picked up a mangled corpse or in actual fragments. "Tom, do you hear me? Tom, I insist upon it."

But if Miss Clark had shouted till she had killed herself with shouting, Tom, leaning half his body out of the window, with the wind whistling in his ears and the roar and rattle of the engine and wheels all helping to deaden any such small sounds as that of a human voice, and that the voice of a weak and rather helpless woman, could not have heard her, and Miss Clark had no choice but, with May's help, to tug Tom in by the nether part of his garments. This done, she pulled up the window with a jerk.

"I forbid you to open that window again," she said with such severity that even Tom was cowed, and sat meekly down with a somewhat sulky air.

Miss Clark had thus time to turn her attention to the other children, when, to her horror, she found that Flossie was not only emulating but far surpassing her brother, not contenting herself with leaning well out of the window, but was actually standing on the seat that she might push herself out the farther. To pull her in and put her down on her seat with a bump was the work of but a moment.

"If I have to speak to you again, Flossie," she said in accents of solemn warning, "I shall get out at the next station and take you to your father's carriage. I fancy you will sit quiet there."

Flossie thought so too, and sat quietly enough till the next station was passed; but after that May complained so bitterly of the closed windows and the horrid stuffiness of the carriage that Miss Clark's sternness relented a little, and she allowed the window beside which May was sitting to be let down. And the very fact of the window being open seemed to set all Tom's nerves, and muscles, and longings tingling. He moved about uneasily in his seat, kept dodging round to look sideways through the glass at the side, and finally jumped up in a hurry and pushed his head and shoulders through the window. In vain did Miss Clark tug and pull at him and his garments alike. Tom had his elbows out of the window this time, and, as he chose not to give way, not all the combined strength of Miss Clark and May, with such help as Sarah and Minnie could give, had the smallest effect upon him. At last Miss Clark, who, as I have said, was not very strong, sat down and began to sniff in a way which sounded very hysterical, for she really was horribly afraid some dreadful accident would happen long before they got to their destination. However, as the suspicious little sob was heard and understood by May, that young lady took the law into her own hands and administered a sharp corrective immediately.

"Tom," she shouted, "come in."

Tom did not hear more than that he was being shouted at, and, as a natural consequence, did not move. Whereupon May quietly reached up to the rack and fished out Tom's own, his very own, riding-whip, and with that she began to belabour him soundly.

It had effect! After half a dozen cuts, Tom began to struggle in, but May was a stout and heavily-set young lady, and as resolute in will as ever was her father, when she was once fairly roused. So she calmly held him by his neck and went on administering her corrective until she was utterly tired.

Then she let him go, and when he, blind with rage and fury, and vowing vengeance upon her, made for her, and would have fought her, she sprang up at the knob by which you can signal to the driver and stop a train, and threatened to pull it if he touched her.

And oh, Tom was angry! Angry--he was furious; but he was mastered. For it happened that on the very day that he and Johnnie had gone with Charles to Seven Dials, he had asked Charles all about the alarm bell, by means of which trains may be stopped if necessary, and Charles had explained the matter in a clear and lucid way peculiar to himself--a talent which made him especially valuable in a home where there were boys.

"Why, Master Tom," he exclaimed, "you see that's a indicator. If you wants to storp the trayin you just pulls that knob, and it rings a bell on the engine somewhere, and the driver storps the trayin at once."

"Let's stop it," suggested Tom, in high glee at the prospect of a walk through a dark and dangerous tunnel.

It must be admitted that Charles's heart fairly stood still at the thought of what his explanation had suggested.

"Master Tom," said he, with a face of horror which was so expressive that Tom was greatly impressed by it, "don't you go for to do nothing of the kind! It's almost a 'anging matter is storping of trayins--useless like. If you was took ill, or 'ad a fit, or somebody was a-murdering of you, why, it would be all right; but to storp a trayin when there's naught wrong, is--well, I believe, as a matter of fact, it's seven years."

"Seven years--seven years what?" Tom asked, thinking the whole thing a grand joke.

"Prison," returned Charles laconically; "that is, if it was me. If it was you, Master Tom, it would mean reformatory school, with plenty of stick and no meat, nor no 'olidays. No, I wouldn't go for to storp no trayins if I was you, Master Tom."

"But we needn't say it was us that rang," pleaded Tom, whose fingers were just itching to ring that bell.

Charles laughed. "Lor! Master Tom, they're up to that game!" he answered. "Bless you! they 'ave a lot of numbers, and they'd know in a minute which carriage it was that rang. No, Master Tom, don't you go for to ring no bells and storp no trayins. I lived servant with a young fellow once as had had five years of a reformatory school, and the tales he used to tell of what went on there was enough to make your blood curdle and your very 'air stand on end--mine did many a time!"

"Which--your blood or your hair, Charles?" Tom inquired, with keen interest.

"Both!" returned Charles, in a tone which carried conviction with it.

Thus Tom had no further resource, when May vowed to ring the bell and stop the train if he touched her, but to sit down and bear his aches and his defeat in silence. But, oh, he was angry! To be beaten and beaten again by a girl! It was too humiliating, too lowering to bear. Yet poor Tom had to bear it--that was the worst of it. So they eventually got to Brighton in safety.