Stories with a Vengeance — page 48: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

44 mourned her beloved partner, she kept up the cheerfulness of the dear old home, and lived only for her childrens’ happiness and well-being. Ah, her great sorrow hadn’t come upon her then,—the sorrow that whitened her locks with the snows of an untimely winter, and drove the hight and gladness from her bosom ! “We were three children. I was the eldest, then Beta, and next to her Charlie, the pride and darling of the household. tfow we petted and did our best to spoil him from morning till night! The dear mother loved us all very truly and tenderly ; but Charlie, her youngest born, was as the very breath of her life. “He grew up a fine, handsome lad, and chose the medical profession. So at nine- teen he was articled to an eminent London doctor. “TY need not tell you how sadly he was missed from the home-cjrcle. He went up to town in May of that year, and from time to time wrote us, in his happy boyish style, glowing accounts of his pleasant London life, and the delight he took in his professional studies. Very often he would add a postscript that he knew would bring the happy tears to the mother’s eyes. ‘ How glad I shall be when Christmas comes, for I shall be home then.’ “ Christmas did come round at last; and just a week before, Charlie wrote that he would leave London by the 10.40 trai on the evening of the twenty-third. He couldn’t get off until that day, and by leav- ing his journey until the last train, he would be able to attend Lady Southfield’s dinner- _ party that evening. The Southfields have that handsome place on the hill which we passed in driving from the station yester- day; but since Lord Southfield’s death her ladyship declares that she cannot exist out of London. “Well, ‘the twenty-third of December came, and every preparation was made for the reception of the pet of the household. My poor mother’s excitement was intense. I never saw her in such spirits—I’ve never seen her look happy since! “All that night she lay awake, longing for the daylight that should bring her boy to her. As I ‘drove off in the breaking dawn to the station, she drew aside her window-blind to see me start. “Alas! alas! it was all in vain—all in vain ! “T reached Southfield platform some ten minutes before the train was due. How long those minutes seemed! “At length the train came lumbering in, and I scanned each carriage as it passed. Google THE HAUNTED HANSOM. “Strange ! I could see nothing of Charlie, nor get any tidings of him. I turned into the station disappointed and sore at heart, yet comforting myself with the thought that he would ‘be in by a later train.” Tom’s voice broke, and with the tears coursing down his bronzed, handsome face, he sobbed out, “Martin, we never saw our dear lad again. “T hurried up to town by the last train that afternoon, when I found he didn’t come and had sent no word. I didn’t know what to fear. “He was ill, perhaps dying, and even now I might be too late. I was indeed too late, but not in the way I supposed. I would to Heaven it had been so! ‘“‘ As soon as I reached Paddington, I made careful inquiry of the officials, and found Charlie’s luggage (labelled for Southfield) un the cloak-room. It had been brought there by a messenger, early in the evening of the twenty-third. That was all I could gather, except that no first-class ticket for Southfield had been issued on that or the succeeding day. “I then drove direct to my brother’s rooms in the Albany, only to find that he had sent his portmanteau, &c., to Padding. ton by a trusty messenger, who had re- turned and handed him the ecloak-room ticket just as he was getting into the cab to drive to Lady Southfield’s, in Grosvenor Square. 7 “It was now. nearly ten o’clock on Christmas morning, and away I posted to her ladyship’s residence, in the hope of seeing her before she went out to morning service. “I knew her sufficiently well to be sure she would forgive the intrusion at such an hour; and I was not mis- taken. “IT made an attempt to conceal my agitation as my kind old friend came for- ward, and shook me warmly by the hand ; but she saw at once, with a woman’s keen- ness, that there was something wrong.’ “* What is it, Tom? What’s wrong? Has anything happened to Charlie? You’ve not come to tell me that our handsome, darling boy is ill P’ “And the kindly Dowager's eyes filled with tears. * You see, Martin, they all loved our dear lad and his sunny ways. Lady Southfield had always been as a second mother to Charlie and me from our infancy. She had no children of her own, so she lavished all her affection upon us. “T told her of the mysterious disappear- ance of Charlie, and asked her whether @ © = a JOO S CO)