“Show your tickets, please,” he said, touching his cap to his director and Edwin.
The tickets were produced—all right. Mrs Durby, in getting out hers, although, of course, having got it for her, Joe did not require to see it, dropped her precious brown paper parcel. Picking it up again hastily she pressed it to her bosom with such evident anxiety, that men much less sharp-witted than our trio, would have been led to suspect that it contained something valuable. But they aimed at higher booty just then, and apparently did not notice the incident.
A rapid banging of doors had now set in—a sure precursor of the starting whistle. Before it was quite completed, the inevitable late passenger appeared in the distance. This time it was a lady, middle-aged and stout, and short of wind, but with an iron will, as was clearly evinced by the energy with which she raced along the platform, carrying a large bundle of shawls in one arm, and a travelling-bag in the other, which she waved continuously as she shouted, “Stop! stop! stop the trai–i–i–in! I’m coming!”
The guard, with the whistle already half-way to his lips, paused and glanced at his watch. There was a fraction of a moment left. He stepped to a carriage and threw open a door.
“Make haste, ma’am; make haste, please,” was said in urgent, though respectful tones.
The late passenger plunged in—she might, as far as appearances went, be said to have taken a header into the carriage—and the door was shut.
The guard’s whistle sounded. The engine-driver’s whistle gave prompt reply, and next instant the train moved. No one could conceive of such a thing as a train starting when John Marrot drove!
As the carriages glided by, Mr Sharp cast a passing glance on the late passenger. He observed that her bundle of shawls moved of its own accord, and, for one whole minute after the train had left, he stood motionless, meditating on that curious phenomenon. He had often heard of table-turning, but never until now had he seen inanimate matter move of its own accord. Can we feel surprised that he was both astonished and perplexed? Proceeding to the booking-office he held a brief conversation with the clerks there; then he sauntered into the telegraph-office and delivered a message, after which he left the station with a quiet smile on his sedate countenance.