A Clever Escape
A Detective Story
The train was waiting to leave the station. There had been robberies on the line, and a detective was eagerly watching the faces of the passengers, hoping to catch the thieves. I, the guard, was watching things generally. Presently I caught myself watching a girl who stood alone at some distance. I wished I could have gone straight to her, and put her into one—the most comfortable—of the line of carriages at which she gazed so timidly. Just as I hesitated, a very remarkable figure elbowed its way to me; a stout, grandly-dressed old lady, panting painfully, and almost piercing me with a pair of restless, half-opened eyes, that looked out through the gold-rimmed spectacles perched on her sharp nose. Two porters followed her, laden with bags, cloaks, umbrellas and flowers—the only flowers in the station, I expect, that winter night—and one of the men winked at me over her head, while the other guarded her treasures with a face of concentrated anxiety and thoughts engrossed by possible fees.
“This is the London train, is it ga’ad?” she asked, peering sharply into my face with her half-closed eyes, as if she found it difficult to distinguish me even… Read More