THE TYRANTS OF THE STRAND !
(Fragment from a Romance, Founded upon a Modern Strike.)
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled, the rain pelted, and the poor travellers were drenched to the skin. They shaded their eyes, and peered forth into the blackness to see if succour was at hand. Their strength was exhausted, and they felt they could go no further. Oh! what would they not have given to be once more on board the tight little craft they had abandoned! But no! it was not to be. They must seek for help from another quarter! Suddenly there emerged from the darkness a strange-looking structure, that with its lights seemed bent upon running them down. They signalled for help, and the grotesque vessel was hove to.
"What do you want?" asked a gruff voice, to their great delight, in English. "What are you a haling us for?"
"We are shipwrecked travellers," explained the spokesman of the party; "and we ask for conveyance to a place of safety."
"A place of safety—sounds like a cab-stand," muttered the other. "Well, jump in." Thus invited, the shipwrecked travellers entered what seemed to them to be a welcome harbour of refuge. But they had not proceeded far when the man who had already spoken to them again addressed them.
"Come—all of you—turn out—but first pay me," and then he mentioned a considerable sum of money.
"Have you no mercy?" cried a fair-haired girl, pointing to the white and rain-drenched locks of her ancient parents.
"Not a bit, Miss," returned the semi-savage, with a hideous grin.
"And who are you, rude man?" she asked, plucking up in her very despair some spirit. "Are you the Captain?"
"Much the same thing—I am called the Conductor."
"And what is the name of this dreadful conveyance?" again questioned the damsel, with a shuddering glance at what seemed to be a straw-strewn cabin.
"It is called," replied the man, defiantly, "the Pirate Bus!" On hearing this, the entire party uttered a despairing cry, and fainted!