A TERRIBLE RAILWAY JOURNEY;

Patea Mail, Volume IX, Issue 1174, 9 April 1884, Page 4

A TERRIBLE RAILWAY JOURNEY;

LITERATURE.

Ob, the 8.25 from Euston to Holyhead. It was the second week in October last, and I had just returned from a delightful Continental campaign, when urgent family matters necessitated my immediate presence in Ireland. * I shall have to start by the 8.25 from Euston to-night,’ I remarked to a clerical friend who had just dropped in to welcome me back to London. ‘l’ll come and see you off,’ ho replied promptly. ‘ But it is too bad to lose you so soon after your return.’ ‘I don’t suppose I shall be very long in Ireland,’ I remarked, again reading over the letter in my hand. ' Although I might stay, and go and hear some of those trials that are coming on soon.’ I had so much to see during the few hours at my disposal, that Mr Chasuble soon took his departure, promising to call for me in time for the Irish Mail. I waited until the last minute, but he did not put in an appearance. Finally, not a little piqued at being so treated, I went off like the independent woman I am, and soon uiyself and my travelling impcdi menta wore comfortably esconced in a second-class- carriage to Euston. I had the compartment all to myself, a circumstance upon which I congratulated my lucky stars, as I observed that the three or four other secondclass carriages were pretty fully occupied. Looking at my watch, I found that it yet wanted eight minutes to the time of and I decided to walk up the platform and give a look round for my faithless friend. Sure enough, there he was, hurrying down the platform. He was profuse in his I forget what they were, but I believe I considered his excuses valid, and forgave his breach of faith.

‘ Going the whole, miss ?’ inquired a guard, approaching us and touching his cap. * Yes,’ I replied. ‘I am going over hy the Holyhead mail to Dublin.’ : Thank you, miss;’ and he walked away. ‘lam so glad, Chusahle,’ I said, 1 that I have got a compartment all to myself, as I like to take off my hat, tie my head in a shawl, and lie down and make myself comfortable.’

‘Quito so,’ ho assented. ‘I see themputtingin the footwarmera ; don’t you think you had bettor take your seat ?’

Ho was looking into the carriages as ho was speaking, and passed the one in which my rugs and shawls were deposited. ‘ Which is your carriage ?’ he asked, peering into each one. ‘ They all seem to be moro or less occupied.’ ‘ This is mine, ’ I replied, indicating the carriage he had just passed. ‘ W r hat a nuisance !’ I added, in an undertone. ‘ There is some man in the far corner; he has come in since I got out.’

Two minutes more, and the train steamed slowly out of the station. Mr Chasuble walked by the side of the carriage, and kept chatting to him out of the window, until at last ho could come no farther. I drew up the window, drew down the blinds, and seated myself near the lamp, in order to improve my mind by the perusal of the last number of London Society, and scarcely glanced at my travelling companion. Presently, there is no use denying it, I began to feel very hungry. The mental pabulum had not refreshed me physically, and I longed to attack the sandwiches with which I had been careful to provide. I laid down the paper, retreated into my corner, and looked at my companion. I was in the corner of the opposite seat, at the far end of the compartment. Suddenly it struck me that there was something odd in the way in which he was wrapped up on the seat. He was evidently a tall, powerful man—l could see that plainly. He sat with his hack on a tine with the door, and his legs stretched otit on the seat. I noticed that he wore a tall hat, rather slouched over his forehead, a la a certain noble marquis on the Ministerial benches when he is meditating an attack upon an Irish unconvincible. Ho wore a heavy dark overcoat, inside of which was folded a soft, warm-looking white cashmere handkerchief; his hands were beneath the well-tucked in warm rugs with which he was enveloped from his wrist to his feet, and his eyes wore closed. I congratulated myself upon the latter fact, and furtively opened my paper of sandwiches.

My companion, apparently, slept on soundly; he never moved a muecle. He might have been a wax figure of a good-looking man of about forty, with a short brown beard and slight moustache. My own impression is that I am somewhat of a romantic nature—at least my friends call it romantic, my enemies hysterical—and I could not avoid giving rein to my imagination, and thinking there was something uncanny in the way in which this wax or wooden man sat there for over two mortal hours and made no movement. Not even the faintest flicker of an eyelid demonstrated whether he were alive or dead. All this time I had not lain down. I had been dipping into the magazine at intervals, but, feeling tired, I proceeded to take oif my hat, tie a woollen shawl around my head, and then settled myself on the seat in very much the same position as my motionless follow traveller. There I sat, looking at him. I was almost fascinated by him. I began to think of all the horrible crimes I had heard of in railway travelling, and I wondered if this man wore only pretending to be asleep, and that when I was off my guard he would suddenly rob me, and perhaps murder me. Or could it be that he really was dead, and that in some way or other his murderers had managed to place him in the carriage 'i I also

surmised lie might he under the influence of some narcotic; and even more ridiculous thoughts forced their way into my brain. But one resolution I firmly resolved to adhere to—l would not fall asleep on any account whatever ! (To he Continued.