which is too full of varied matter to be briefly described.

meanwhile let us fly through space with greater than railway speed and overtake the “flying dutchman.”

it has got up full speed by this time. about one mile a minute—sixty miles an hour! sometimes it goes a little faster, sometimes a little slower, according to the nature of the ground; for a railway is by no means a level-way, the ascents and descents being occasionally very steep. those who travel in the carriages form but a faint conception of the pace. to realise it to the full you must stand on the engine with john marrot and will garvie. houses, fields, trees, cattle, human beings, go by in wild confusion—they appear only to vanish. wind is not felt in the carriages. on the lightning you are in a gale. it reminds one of a storm at sea. the noise, too, is terrific. we once had the good fortune to ride on the engine of the “flying dutchman,” and on that occasion had resolved to converse with the driver, and tried it. as well might we have tried to converse amid the rattling of ten thousand tin kettles! john marrot put his mouth to our ear and roared. we heard him faintly. we tried to shout to him; he shook his head, put his hand to his ear, and his ear to our mouth.

“does—it—not—injure—your—hearing?”

“no—sir—not—at—all. it’s—worst—on—our—legs.”

we subsided into silence and wonderment.

we had also resolved to take notes, and tried it. egyptian hieroglyphics are not more comprehensible than the notes we took. we made a discovery, however, near the end of the journey—namely, that by bending the knees, and keeping so, writing became much more possible—or much less impossible! we learnt this from john, who had to fill up in pencil a sort of statement or report-ticket on the engine. it was interesting and curious to note the fact that of the sentences thus written, one word was pencilled in the grounds of the earl of edderline, the next opposite the mansion of lord soberly, the third in the midst of langly moor, the fourth while crashing through the village of efferby, and a full stop was added at the mouth of the great ghostly tunnel. think of that, ye teachers of “penmanship in twelve lessons,” and hide your diminished heads.

john marrot’s engine, of which we have said much, and of which we mean to say still more, was not only a stupendous, but a complex creation. its body consisted of above 5,400 pieces, all of which were almost as delicately fashioned, and put together with as much care, as watch-work. it was a confirmed teetotaller, too. the morning draught which john had given it before starting, to enable it to run its seventy-seven miles, was 800 gallons of cold water. he also gave it a good feed to begin with, and laid in for its sustenance on the trip one ton of coals. its power to act vigorously may be gathered from the fact that one morning, some years before, john had got the fire up with unwonted rapidity, and no sooner had the minimum of steam necessary to move it been created, than it quietly advanced and passed out of its shed through a brick wall fourteen inches thick with as much ease as it would have gone through a sheet of brown paper. this being its power when starting at what we may regard as a quiet walk, some conception may be formed of its capacity when flying down an incline at sixty-five miles an hour with a heavy train of carriages at its back. in such circumstances it would go through an ordinary house, train and all, as a rifle-bullet would go through a cheese. it was an eight-wheeled engine, and the driving-wheels were eight feet in diameter. the cylinder was eighteen inches, with a piston of two feet stroke, and the total weight of engine and tender was fifty-three tons. the cost of this iron horse with its tender was about 3000 pounds.

having fairly started, john took his stand opposite his circular window in the protecting screen or weather-board and kept a sharp look-out ahead. will garvie kept an eye chiefly on the rear to note that all was well in that direction. and much cause was there for caution! to rush through space at such a rate, even on a straight line and in clear weather, was trying enough, but when it is remembered that the day was wet, and that their course lay through sundry deep cuttings and tunnels, and round several curves where it was not possible to foresee obstruction, the necessity for caution will be more apparent.

all went well, however, as usual. after clearing the first thirty-six miles john marrot consulted his watch, and observed to will that they had done it in thirty-eight and a half minutes. he then “put on a spurt,” and went for some time at a higher rate of speed. observing that something at the head of the engine required looking after, will garvie went out along the side of it, and while doing this piece of work his hair and jacket were blown straight back by the breeze which the engine had created for itself. he resembled, in fact, a sailor going out to work on the sails in a stiff breeze.

this artificial breeze, sweeping round the sides of the screen, caused an eddy which sent up a cloud of coal-dust, but neither john nor his mate appeared to care for this. their eyes were evidently coal-proof.

presently they approached a canal over which they rushed, and, for one moment, glanced down on the antipodal mode of locomotion—a boat going three miles an hour with its steersman half asleep and smoking at the helm! next moment they were passing under a bridge; the next over a town, and then rushed through a station, and it was interesting to note as they did so, that the people on the platform shrank back and looked half-terrified, although they were in no danger whatever, while those in the train—who might at any moment have been hurled into eternity—looked calm and serene, evidently untroubled by thoughts of danger; so difficult is it for man to realise his true condition in such circumstances. just beyond the station a dog was observed to have strayed on the line, and ran barking before the engine. it was overtaken and passed in a few seconds, and will looked over the side but saw nothing of it. as no yell was heard, it is probable that the poor thing escaped. soon after that, two navvies were observed walking coolly and slowly on the line in front of the engine. john frowned and laid his hand on the whistle, but before it could sound, the reckless men had heard the train, looked round with horrified faces, sprang like jumping-jacks off the line, right and left, and were gone!

soon after this, on approaching the distant signal of one of the stations, they observed that the arms were extended, indicating that the line was “blocked”—that is, that another train being in advance they must check speed or perhaps stop. this was a species of insult to the “flying dutchman,” whose way ought to have been kept perfectly clear, for even a check of speed would inevitably cause the loss of several minutes. with an indignant grumble john marrot cut off steam, but immediately the signals were lowered and he was allowed to go on. again, in a few minutes, another signal checked him.

“they’ve let a train on before us,” growled john, sternly, “and p’raps we may be checked all the way to london—but some one shall hear of this, an’ have to account for it.”

john was wrong to some extent. while he yet spoke the signal to go on was given, and a few minutes later the “flying dutchman” flashed past the obstructing train, which had been shunted on to a siding, and from its windows hundreds of passengers were gazing at the express which passed them like a meteor—perhaps they were congratulating themselves, as well they might, for, but for the “block system,” their danger would have been tremendous; almost equal to that of a man endeavouring to run away from a cannon-shot. this may be somewhat better understood when we explain that the “flying dutchman” could not have been stopped in a shorter space than one mile and a half.

at length the iron horse came suddenly on an obstruction which filled its driver with deep anxiety and alarm. daily had john driven that train, but never before had he met with a similar danger. at a level crossing, less than a mile in advance of him, he observed a horse and a loaded cart standing right across the line. either the horse was a run-away, or the driver had left it for a little and it had strayed. whatever the cause of its being there john’s alert mind saw at once that a collision was inevitable. he shut off steam, and was about to whistle for the guard to apply the brakes, while will garvie, who also saw the danger, was already turning on the brakes of the tender.

john reflected that it would be impossible to come to a stand within the space that lay between him and the cart and that a partial concussion would be almost certain to throw his engine off the rails. less than a minute remained to him.

“let her go, mate,” he shouted quickly.

will garvie obeyed at once. john put on full steam, the “flying dutchman” leaped forward with increased velocity. then followed a slight shock, and; next moment, the cart and horse were smashed to atoms—all but annihilated!

it was a great risk that had been run; but of two evils john marrot had chosen the less and came off in triumph with only a slight damage to his buffers.

let us now quit the engine for a little, and, retracing our steps in regard to time, visit some of the carriages behind it.

when the “late passenger” recovered her breath and equanimity, and found herself fairly on her journey, she unfolded her bundle of shawls and disclosed a fat glossy lap-dog, which seemed to enjoy its return to fresh air and daylight, and acknowledged, with sundry wags of its tail and blinks of its eyes the complimentary assurance that it was the “dearest, sweetest, p’ittiest ’ittle darling that ever was born,” and that, “it wouldn’t be allowed to pay a nasty fare to a mean railway company that let all kinds of ugly parrots and cats and babies travel free!”

a timid little lady, the only other occupant of the carriage, ventured to suggest that the dog travelling free was against the rules of the company.

“i am quite aware of that,” said the late passenger somewhat sharply, “but if people choose to make unjust and oppressive rules i don’t mean to submit to them. just think of a parrot, a horrid shrieking creature that every one acknowledges to be a nuisance, being allowed to travel free, or a baby, which is enough to drive one distracted when it squalls, as it always does in a railway carriage, while my sweet little pet that annoys nobody must be paid for, forsooth!”

“it does indeed seem unreasonable,” responded the timid little old lady; “but don’t you think that the company has a perfect right to make whatever rules it pleases, and that we are bound to obey them when we make use of their line?”

“no, i don’t!” said the late passenger tartly.

the timid little lady thought it advisable to change the subject and did so by remarking that the dog was a very pretty creature. upon which the late passenger thawed at once, admitted that it was a very pretty creature, and asserted in addition that it was a “perfect darling.”

their conversation became miscellaneous and general after this point, and not worth reporting, therefore we shall get out at the window and pass along the foot-boards to the carriage occupied by mrs durby and her friends.

immediately after the train had started, as before described, captain lee entered into an animated conversation with the nurse as to the health of the tipps family. edwin, who was much interested in them, listened and put in a word now and then, but neither he nor the captain, after the first glance, paid any attention to the other occupants of the carnage.

meanwhile thomson, jenkins and company spent a short time in taking a quiet observation of the state of affairs. the former had placed himself opposite to edwin and eyed him over critically as a wrestler might eye his opponent; jenkins had seated himself opposite the captain, who had been apportioned to him in the coming conflict, and smith, who, although a stout enough fellow, was the smallest of the three, kept his eye on the coveted bag, and held himself in readiness to act as might be advisable. the scoundrels were not long in taking action.

as soon as they were quite clear of the suburbs of clatterby, jenkins suddenly hit captain lee a tremendous blow on the head, which was meant to fell him at once; but the captain’s head was harder than he had expected it to be; he instantly grappled with jenkins. edwin’s amazement did not prevent his prompt action; but at the moment he sprang to the rescue, he received a blow from thomson, who leaped on him, and seized him by the throat with a vice-like gripe. at the same moment smith also sprang upon him.

thomson soon found that he had miscalculated young gurwood’s strength. strong though his grasp was, edwin’s was stronger. almost as quick as thought he threw his left arm round thomson’s waist, grasped his hair with his right hand, and almost broke his back. there is no question that he would have overcome him in a few seconds if smith had not hampered him. as it was, he disengaged his right arm for a moment and, hitting a familiar and oft-tried blow straight out from the shoulder planted his knuckles just above the bridge of smith’s nose. he fell as if he had been shot but the momentary relief thus afforded to thomson enabled that scoundrel to get into a better position for continuing the struggle. meanwhile jenkins, although bravely and stoutly opposed by the veteran lee, quickly rendered his adversary insensible, and at once sprang upon edwin, and turned the scale in favour of his comrade, who at the moment was struggling in the youth’s grasp with savage though unavailing ferocity. at the same time smith, who had only been stunned, recovered, and seizing edwin by the legs endeavoured to throw him down, so that it went hard with our young hero after that despite his activity, strength and courage.

during this scene, which was enacted in a very few minutes, poor mrs durby sat drawn up into the remotest corner of the carriage, her face transfixed with horror, and a terrific yell bursting occasionally from her white lips. but neither the sound of her cries nor the noise of the deadly struggle could overtop the clatter of the express train. those in the next compartment did indeed hear a little of it but they were powerless to render assistance, and there was at that time no means of communicating with the guard or driver. poor edwin thought of captain lee, who lay bleeding on the floor, and of emma, and the power of thought was so potential that in his great wrath he almost lifted the three men in the air; but they clung to him like leeches, and it is certain that they would have finally overcome him, had he not in one of his frantic struggles thrust his foot below one of the seats and kicked the still slumbering sam natly on the nose!

that over-wrought but erring porter immediately awoke to the consciousness of being oppressed with a sense of guilt and of being in a very strange and awkward position. quickly perceiving, however, by the wild motion of the feet and an occasional scream from mrs durby, that something serious was going on, he peeped out, saw at a glance how matters stood, got to his feet in a moment, and dealt jenkins such a blow on the back of the head that he dropped like a stone. to deal smith two similar blows, with like result, was the work of two seconds. thus freed, edwin rose like a giant, crushed thomson down into a seat, and twisted his neckcloth until his eyes began to glaze and his lips to turn blue.

sam natly was a man of cool self-possession.

seeing that edwin was more than a match for his adversary, he left him, and proceeded to attend to the captain, who showed symptoms of revival; but happening to glance again at edwin, and observing the condition of thomson, sam turned and put his hand on the youth’s arm.

“i think, sir,” he said quietly, “it would be as well to leave enough of him to be hanged. besides, it might be raither awkward, sir, to do jack ketch’s dooty without the benefit of judge, jury, witnesses, or clergy.”

edwin released his hold at once, and thomson raised himself in the seat, clenching his teeth and fists as he did so. he was one of those savage creatures who, when roused, appear to go mad, and become utterly regardless of consequences. while sam was engaged in extemporising handcuffs for jenkins and smith out of a necktie and a pocket-handkerchief, thomson sat perfectly still, but breathed very hard. he was only resting a little to recover strength, for in a moment, without a sound or warning of any kind, he hit edwin with all his force on the temple. fortunately the youth saw the coming blow in time to partially give way to it, and in another moment the struggle was renewed, but terminated almost as quickly, for edwin gave thomson a blow that stunned him and kept him quiet for the next quarter of an hour.

during this period edwin examined captain lee’s hurts, which turned out to be less severe than might have been expected. he also assisted sam to secure thomson’s wrists with a handkerchief, and then devoted some time to soothing the agitated spirits of poor mrs durby, whose luckless shins had not escaped quite scatheless during the mêlée.

“oh, sir,” sobbed mrs durby, glancing with horror at the dishevelled and blood-stained prisoners, “i always thought railways was bad things, but i never, no i never, imagined they was as bad as this.”

“but, my good woman,” said edwin, unable to restrain a smile, “railways are not all, nor always, as bad as this. we very seldom hear of such a villainous deed as has been attempted to-day; thanks to the energy and efficiency of their police establishments.”

“quite true, gurward, quite true,” said captain lee, glancing sternly at the prisoners, and stanching a cut in his forehead with a handkerchief as he spoke; “our police arrangements are improving daily, as scoundrels shall find to their cost.”

jenkins and smith did not raise their eyes, and thomson continued to frown steadily out at the window without moving a muscle.

“i’m sure i don’t know nothink about your p’lice, an’ what’s more, i don’t care,” said mrs durby; “all that i know is that railways is dreadful things, and if i was the queen, which i’m not, i’d have ’em all put down by acts of parlingment, so i would. but never, never, never,—as long as i’m able to manidge my own—ah!”

mrs durby terminated here with one of her own appalling shrieks, for it was at this precise moment that john marrot happened, as already described, to have occasion to knock a cart and horse to atoms. the shock, as we have said, was very slight, nevertheless it was sufficient to overturn the poor nurse’s nervous system, which had already been wrought up to a high pitch of tension.

“that’s somethin’ gone, sir,” said sam, touching his cap to captain lee.

“what is it, edwin?” inquired the captain as the youth let down the window and looked out.

“i can see nothing,” said edwin, “except that the guard and fireman are both looking back as if they wanted to see something on the line. we are beginning to slow, however, being not far from the station now.”

about a mile and three-quarters from the station, in the suburbs of london, where the tickets were to be collected, john marrot stopped the pulse of his iron horse, for so terrific was his speed that he was able to run the greater part of that distance by means of the momentum already acquired. by degrees the mighty engine began to “slow.” trees and houses instead of rushing madly past began to run hastily by, and then to glide behind at a rate that was more in keeping with the dignity of their nature. from sixty miles an hour the train passed by a rapid transition to ordinary express speed, then to ordinary speed, then to twenty miles an hour. then thomson felt that his opportunity had come. he suddenly wrenched his wrists from their fastening, leaped head foremost out of the window, fell on the embankment in a heap, and rolled to the bottom, where he lay extended on his back as if dead.

thus much mrs durby saw in one horrified glance and then fainted dead away, in which condition she remained, to the great anxiety and distress of captain lee, until the “flying dutchman,” after doing seventy-eight miles in one hour and a half, glided as softly up to the platform of the station in the great metropolis as if it were a modest young train which had yet to win its spurs, instead of being a tried veteran which had done its best for many years past to annihilate space and time. but, after all, it resembled all other tried veterans in this respect.

generally speaking, engine-drivers are little—far too little—thought of after a journey is over. mankind is not prone to be wise or discriminating, in giving credit to whom credit is due. we “remember” waiters after having eaten a good dinner, but who, in any sense of the word, “remembers” the cook? so in like manner we think of railway porters and guards at the end of our journeys, and talk of their civility mayhap, but who thinks or talks of the driver and fireman as they lean on the rails of their iron horse, wet and weary perchance—smoke and dust and soot begrimed for certain—and calmly watch the departure of the multitudes whom they have, by the exercise of consummate coolness, skill, and courage, brought through dangers and hairbreadth escapes that they neither knew nor dreamed of?

on this particular occasion, however, the tables were turned for once. the gentlemen in the train hurried to the guard to ask what had caused the slight shock which they had felt. joe turner had been called aside for a moment by a clerk, so they went direct to john marrot himself, who modestly related what had happened in a half apologetic tone, for he did not feel quite sure that he had done the best in the circumstances. his admiring audience had no doubt on the point, however.

“you’re a brick, john!” exclaimed an enthusiastic commercial traveller.

“that’s true,” said another. “if we had more men like him, there would be fewer accidents.”

“let’s give him something,” whispered a third.

the suggestion was eagerly acted on. a subscription was made on the spot, and in three minutes the sum of about ten pounds was thrust into john’s huge dirty hand by the enthusiastic commercial traveller. but john firmly refused to take it.

“what’s to be done with it, then?” demanded the traveller, “i can’t keep it, you know, and i’m not going to sit down here and spend half-an-hour in returning the money. if you don’t take it john, i must fling it under the engine or into the furnace.”

“well,” said the driver, after a moment’s consideration, while he closed his hand on the money and thrust it into his breeches pocket, “i’ll take it. it will help to replace the cart we smashed, if i can find the owner.”

while this was going on near the engine, the robbers were being removed from their carriage to receive the due reward of their deeds. three tall and strong-boned men had been on the platform for some time awaiting the arrival of the “flying dutchman.” swift though john marrot’s iron horse was, a swifter messenger had passed on the line before him. the electric spark—and a fast volatile, free-and-easy, yet faithful spark it is—had been commissioned to do a little service that day. half-an-hour after the train had left clatterby a detective, wholly unconnected with our friend sharp, had called and sent a message to london to have thomson, jenkins, and smith apprehended, in consequence of their connexion with a case of fraud which had been traced to them. the three tall strong-boned men were there in virtue of this telegram. but, accustomed though these men were to surprising incidents, they had scarcely expected to find that the three culprits had added another to their many crimes, and that one of them had leaped out of the train and out of their clutches—in all probability out of the world altogether! two of the strong men went off immediately in search of him, or his remains, while the other put proper manacles on jenkins and smith and carried them off in a cab.

meanwhile joe turner saw that all the other passengers were got carefully out of the train. he was particularly polite in his attentions, however, to the “late passenger!”

“you have forgot, ma’am,” he said politely, “to give up your dog-ticket.”

“dog-ticket!” exclaimed the lady, blushing; “what do you mean? i have no dog-ticket.”

“not for the little poodle dog, ma’am, that you carry under your shawl?”

the lady blushed still deeper as she admitted that she had no ticket for the dog, but said that she was quite willing to pay for it.

this having been done, her curiosity got the better of her shame at having been “caught,” and she asked—

“how did you know i had a dog with me, guard?”

“ah, ma’am,” replied joe with a smile, “we’ve got a remarkably sharp-sighted police force on our line, besides the telegraph. we find the telegraph very useful, i assure you, at times. the gentlemen who were removed in handcuffs a few minutes ago were also stopped in their little game by the telegraph, ma’am.”

the guard turned away to attend to some one else, and the late passenger, blushing a still deeper scarlet to find that she was classed with criminals, hurried away to reflect, it is to be hoped, on the fact that dishonesty has no variety in character—only in degree.

when the guard left the late passenger, he found that his assistance was required to get mrs durby and her belongings out of the railway carriage and into a cab.

the poor nurse was in a pitiable state of mind. a railway journey had always been to her a thing of horror. the reader may therefore form some conception of what it was to her to have been thus suddenly called away from quiet suburban life to undertake not only a railway journey, but to be shut up with a gang of would-be murderers and encounter a sort of accident in addition! by the time she had reached london she had become quite incapable of connected thought. even the precious parcel, which at first had been an object of the deepest solicitude, was forgotten; and although she had hugged it to her breast not two minutes before, she suffered it to drop under the seat as she was led from the train to the cab.

“drive to the clarendon,” said captain lee, as he and gurwood followed the nurse into the cab; “we will take care of her,” he added to edwin, “till she is better able to take care of herself.”

mrs durby gave vent to a hysterical sob of gratitude.

arrived at the clarendon they alighted, the captain paid the fare, and the cab was dismissed. just at that moment mrs durby became a temporary maniac. she shrieked, “oh! my parcel!” and rushed towards the door.

the captain and waiter restrained her.

“it’s in the cab!” she yelled with a fervour there was no resisting.

edwin, comprehending the case, dashed down the steps and followed the cab; but he might as well have followed the proverbial needle in the haystack. hundreds of cabs, carts, busses, and waggons were passing the clarendon. he assaulted and stopped four wrong cabs, endured a deal of chaff, and finally returned to the hotel discomfited.

thus suddenly was mrs durby bereft of her treasure and thrown into abject despair. while in this condition she partially unbosomed herself to captain lee, and, contrary to strict orders, revealed all she knew about the embarrassments of mrs tipps, carefully concealing, however, the nature of the contents of her lost parcel, and the real object of her journey to london.

one more paragraph in regard to this eventful trip of the “flying dutchman” ere we have done with the subject.

having finished his journey, john marrot took his iron steed to the stable. usually his day’s work terminated at clatterby; but, owing to the horse being in need of extra rest he had to stop in london that night. and no wonder that the lightning was sometimes fatigued, for even an ordinary express engine on the grand national trunk railway was wont to run over 270 miles of ground in a day, at the rate of about forty-five miles an hour, and with a dead weight of 120 tons, more or less, at her tail. this she did regularly, with two “shed-days,” or days of rest, in the week for cleansing and slight repairs. such an engine was considered to do good service if it ran 250 days in the year. but the engine of the “flying dutchman” was more highly favoured than other engines—probably on the ground of the principle taught by the proverb, “it is the pace that kills.” its regular run was 1,544 miles in the day, and assuredly it stood in need of repose and refreshment quite as much as ordinary horses do. its joints had become relaxed with severe labour, its bolts had been loosened, its rubbing surfaces, despite the oil poured so liberally on them by will garvie, had become heated. some of them, unequally expanded, strained and twisted; its grate-bars and fire-box had become choked with “clinkers,” and its tubes charged with coke.

john therefore ran it into the huge shed or stable prepared for the reception of twenty-four iron horses, and handed it over to a set of cleaners or grooms. these immediately set to work; they cleaned out its fire-box, scraped its grate-bars, tightened all its bolts and rivets, greased the moving parts, and thoroughly cleansed it, outside and in. thus washed, cooled down, and purified, it was left to repose for five or six hours preparatory to a renewal of its giant energies on the following day.

although we have somewhat exalted our pet locomotive of the “flying dutchman,” justice requires us to state that goods engines are more gigantic and powerful, though they are not required to run so fast. these engines are the heavy dray-horses of the line, express engines being the racers. the latter can carry a light load of some seventy or ninety tons on a good roadway at the rate of fifty miles an hour or upwards. goods engines of the most powerful class, on the other hand, run at a much slower pace, but they drag with ease a load of from 300 to 350 tons, with which they can ascend steep gradients.

but whether light or heavy, strong or weak, all of them are subject to the same laws. though powerfully, they are delicately framed, and like man himself, appear to be incapable of perfect action without obtaining at the least one day of rest in the week.