Bob Strong's Holidays Part 3

"Give him the lot, poor chap," cried the old Captain; but Nellie did not need this admonition, being in the very act of handing over the parcel of sandwiches to d.i.c.k even while the old sailor spoke. "There's no good in his making two bites of a cherry, as the saying goes."

"Eat these, my poor boy," cried Nellie. "Bob and I had buns at Waterloo before the train started, and we shan't want anything till we get to auntie's house."

"Fire away, old chap!" chimed in Bob, noticing that the lad hesitated a moment in accepting the proffered gift. "You needn't be afraid. Nellie and I are not hungry like you."

Bob's friendly tone, coupled with the sight of the tempting viands, at once removed any of d.i.c.k's lingering scruples; and, in another minute, he was gobbling up the sandwiches like a famished wolf--his fellow- travellers looking on with the utmost complacency and satisfaction at the rapidity with which he got rid of them, bolting the little squares of bread and meat one by one.

All this time, the engine was puffing and snorting away as if it had a bad attack of asthma, giving a fierce pull every now and then to the dragging carriages behind it; while, when the stalwart iron horse occasionally loitered in his paces or slackened speed in going round a sharp curve on the line, the coupling-chains would rattle as they lost their tension and the buffers of the carriages behind, going faster for the moment than the engine, would come together with a bang that vibrated through the marrow-bones of all!

The scenery altered, too, every instant along the route; the wooded heights around Guildford and G.o.dalming and Haslemere, which the poet Tennyson loved and where he lived and died, being succeeded by a stretch of level landscape, and this again by the steep bare hills encircling sleepy Petersfield.

Presently, a range of downs came in sight, curving away in horse-shoe fashion from right to left, on which were a series of red-brick, detached structures, placed along the topmost ridge at equal intervals apparently, until they were lost in the distance.

As they approached these nearer, Miss Nellie's sharp eyes noticed that on the landward side these brick piles were covered with a slant of smoothly-shaven green turf that contrasted conspicuously with the chalky surface of the sloping ridge.

"What funny things those are!" said she, pointing these out to Bob.

"Are they houses, or tombs, or what?"

"Where, what do you mean?" asked the Captain, turning round from his contemplation of d.i.c.k, who, having finished the packet of sandwiches, was now carefully searching the piece of newspaper in which they had been wrapped up on the chance of there being a few stray crumbs left.

"Why, hullo, here we are close to our destination! Those 'funny things,' as you style them, missy, are the Portsdown forts--you are not far out though, in your estimate of their appearance, for they're called 'Palmerston's Follies' by the political wags here."

"Are we near Portsmouth then?" said Nellie, peering out anxiously. "I don't see anything!"

"Oh yes, missy, quite near," replied the Captain, also looking out of the window. "There's Havant just in front. Don't you smell the sea?"

"Yes, Captain, yes, I do! Yes, I do!" cried Bob and Nellie together, clapping their hands. "Isn't it nice! Isn't it jolly!"--Bob, it may be taken for granted, using the latter term of approbation; Nellie adding on her own private account another, "Ah, how nice!"

"Well, that's a matter of opinion," said Captain Dresser dryly, his experiences of the fickle element not having, perhaps, always been pleasant ones; but, before he could explain this, the train, with a piercing shriek of warning from the steam-whistle of the engine, glided into the station.

"Hav-'nt! Hav-'nt!" shouted the porters with lungs of bra.s.s and voices of leather or gutta-percha. "Hav-'nt! Hav-'nt!"

"That's just what this boy will say when the guard asks him presently for his ticket, or the money for his fare," said the Captain, with his comical chuckle and merry twinkle of his bird-like eyes, pointing to d.i.c.k as the ticket-collector banged open the door of the carriage as if trying to wrench it off its hinges and held out his hand. "He haven't got his ticket. Hav-n't, you see, my dears! Ha--ha--ha!"

CHAPTER THREE.

ROVER DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF.

The ticket-collector appeared puzzled for the moment, especially on noticing a poor, ragged fellow like d.i.c.k travelling in a first-cla.s.s compartment "in company with gentlefolks," as he thought to himself; but, at the instant this reflection pa.s.sed through his mind, he recognised the Captain as an old and regular pa.s.senger on the line, besides being one from whom he had received many a 'tip,' so he at once touched his cap, responding with a grin of sympathy to the Captain's cheery laugh, as if he thoroughly entered into the joke.

"Oh, haven't he, sir?" said he, the ungrammatical phrase dropping more naturally from his rustic tongue; "then he'll have to get 'un sharp, or pay the fare, sir."

"Never mind about that, my man, I'll pay for his ticket, for he's travelling with me," replied the old sailor as he fumbled in his pockets, shoving his hand first in one and then in the other; producing, at last, a number of gold and silver coins, mixed up with coppers, a bunch of keys, a clasp-knife, and his snuff-box, which somehow or other he had put back in the wrong place. "How much is it?"

"Where from, sir?" inquired the man, reaching out his hand for Bob and Nellie's tickets. "Far up the line, sir?"

"No, only from Guildford," replied the Captain. "That's only half-way from London; but there's half-a-sovereign, and you may keep the change for yourself."

"Thank you, sir," said the collector, touching his cap again and taking the coin. He still lingered, however, as if wanting something more but hesitated to ask for it.

"Well?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Captain impatiently. "What is it, my man?"

"Your ticket, sir," said the man deferentially. "You forgot to give it me, sir."

"Zounds!" cried the other, blinking away furiously and moving his eyebrows up and down as he searched vainly in all his pockets, finally discovering that he held the missing ticket in his fist all the while!

"I declare I forgot all about it. You see I was ready for you, though, eh?"

"All right, sir, good-day," said the man, receiving the ticket and shutting the carriage-door gently, with a bow and a smile and another touch of his cap; and, the next moment, with another sharp unearthly shriek of the steam-whistle similar to that which had heralded its entrance into Havant station, the train, giving a joggle and a jerk as it got under way, was speeding along again, across the rattling bridges that spanned the moats of the fortifications and through the Portsea lines, to the terminus beyond at Landport.

"Here we are, children," exclaimed the Captain, on its pulling up at the journey's end. "Here we are at last!"

"And is this Portsmouth?" inquired Nellie. But, she need not have asked the question; for, as she looked down the platform she cried out excitedly in the same breath--"Why, there's aunt Polly! There's aunt Polly!"

"Let me look, let me look," said Bob, trying to squeeze in between Nellie and the Captain, who was fumbling at the handle of the door, endeavouring to open it. "I can't see her, Nell! Where is she?"

"Hold on, can't you!" grumbled the old sailor, angry with the door for not yielding at once to his efforts. "If you wait a moment you'll be able to see your 'aunt Polly' and everybody else to your heart's content; that is, as soon as we can get out on to the platform. Bother take the door, how it sticks!" With this exclamation, muttered in a hoa.r.s.e, stifled voice, by reason of his half-stooping position, the Captain put his knee against the obnoxious door; and this, giving way to his shove, unexpectedly, nearly precipitated him into the arms of Mrs Gilmour, the aunt of our hero and heroine, who had recognised little Nellie's face at the window and advanced to the side of the carriage, without his perceiving her approach.

"Dear me, Captain Dresser!" she cried with a laugh, just catching him from falling on his face. "I've no doubt you are very glad to say me again, but you needn't be quite so demonstrative in public."

The Captain rose up, looking very red and confused. "I'm sure I beg your pardon, ma'am," said he, bowing and laughing, too, as he recovered himself; "but those porters slam and jam the doors so, that they never will open properly when you want to get out quickly!"

His further excuses, however, were cut short by Nellie springing out of the carriage before he could utter another word.

"Oh, aunt Polly!" she exclaimed, hugging the smiling lady, who was a plump merry-looking little body, with dark wavy hair and large, l.u.s.trous, almond-shaped eyes, which, strange to say, were of an intense violet blue, presenting a curious contrast. "You dear auntie Polly!

How glad I am to see you again!"

"So am I, me dearie, to say you," replied the other, with the slightest wee bit of a brogue, aunt Polly having been born in the North of Ireland, where blue eyes with black hair and brogues are common; "an'

Bob, too, the darlint! How are you, me boy!"

"All right, auntie, right as a jiffy," said he brightly, greeting her with like effusion to his sister. "Really, I don't know when I was so glad as I am to come down here to the sea and see you. Hullo, though, I'm forgetting about Rover!"

With these words, Master Bob darted down the platform to the guard's van at the end of the train, with Miss Nellie cantering after him; both leaving their newly-met aunt as unceremoniously as the Captain had tumbled against her on emerging from the carriage the moment before!

However, Mrs Gilmour did not appear to mind this, only exchanging a smile with the old sailor, who of course remained beside her; while d.i.c.k, as if anxious to make some return for the kindness shown him, had started taking the children's traps out of the train without waiting for any one's orders.

As for the Captain, he had no luggage beyond the queer-looking malacca walking-stick called a 'Penang lawyer' which he held in his hand, never troubling himself with 'stray dunnage,' as he said, when travelling by railway.

Bob and Nellie were presently seen in the distance, in close colloquy with the guard, who, after a bit, lugged out from his van, with much deliberation of movement and 'gingerliness' of manner, a huge black retriever, who apparently did not wish just then to issue forth from his retreat.

No sooner, however, had the imprisoned animal once more touched the firm ground of the platform with his four paws, than, carried away with delight at being able to stand again on something that wasn't moving, he suddenly wrenched himself free from the guard and began plunging about in a mad gambol around.

"Come here, Rover!" cried Bob. "Come here, Rover!" echoed Nellie, alike in vain; for, although Rover approached and jumped up on each in turn in expression of his pleasure at seeing them, he would dart away the next instant out of reach, evidently afraid lest the chain should be taken hold of, and he be boxed up again in purgatory. He would not attend to any, "Come here, sir!"

"He's too artful to be caught, sir," said the guard, laughing at the dog's antics. "He's too knowing by half."

"Oh, he'll come along fast enough after me," answered Bob with some reserve of manner, thinking it rather beneath his dignity, as well as unjust to Rover, to bandy words about the latter's disobedience of orders; and so, he walked on up the platform, whistling as he went and followed by Nellie, towards where aunt Polly and the Captain were chatting, the old sailor explaining to Mrs Gilmour how d.i.c.k's acquaintance had been made, she having been much impressed by his civil and attentive demeanour, if not by his appearance.

"Come on!" shouted Bob between his whistles, as he got nearer; Nellie, close behind him, likewise whistling and repeating his cry, "Come on, Rover!"