Chapter Twenty Nine.
A last Word.
There was a warning shriek from the engine’s steam-whistle, as if it were impatient to be off, and angrily wanting to know why it was kept thus unnecessarily waiting.
Following up the scream of the whistle came the last cling! clang! of the railway-porter’s bell, telling belated passengers that “time” was “up.”
Next ensued the scrambling and scurrying of the aforesaid belated passengers, who always appear to put off making up their minds as to whether they shall start or not until the last moment of grace has expired.
Then, finally, after much clanging of doors upon the backs of those thus nearly left behind, with a snort of indignation and defiance of things in general, and late passengers in particular, the panting, puffing, fuming iron horse metaphorically and practically “put his shoulder to the wheel,” lugging the rolling, rumbling, heavy train out of the station Londonwards, with a “puff-puff, pant-pant!” from his hoarse throat, answered by the groans and creaks of sympathy from the laden carriages and the clinking rattle of the coupling-chains, as they drew taut from the tension, lending a sort of cymbal-like accompaniment to the noisy chorus.
Bob and Nellie watched their aunt and the Captain standing on the platform, waving their handkerchiefs from the window of their compartment, which they found it a hard matter to shove their heads through two at a time, until a bend in the line swept aunt Pollys Captain Dresser, platform and all out of sight.
Then, sitting down disconsolately in their seats, Bob, who, of course, thought it unmanly to cry, screwed himself up in a corner in default of that alleviation of his misery, looking the very picture of woe; while poor Nell, being a girl and freed from such Spartan obligations, sought refuge from her sorrow in silent tears.
“Now, Nellie dear,” said her mother reprovingly, “you mustn’t be so foolish! Of course, I can make allowance for your sorrow at leaving Southsea, where you have been so happy; but these partings, dearie, will come some time or other, and, besides, you know, both aunt Polly and Captain Dresser have promised to come up to us at Christmas, so you’ll see them again soon.”
This made poor Nell try to compose herself; and presently she smiled through her tears, exchanging reminiscences of the past few weeks of their enjoyment by the sea with Bob, who also, after a time, shook off his grumpiness—the feeling that they were going “home” again, by and by overcoming their depression at leaving, perhaps for ever, the scene of so many delights and such a terrible ordeal at the last!