The Argosy — page 399: what you’re looking at

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

“MR Sarre I. T was about six o’clock upon a June evening, and the rays of the declining sun were still shining down hotly upon a small railway station in the midst of a sleepy, agricultural district. A long, low building, with a gravelled platform and one iron bench, enclosed in wooden palings, formed the whole erection; and, all glittered incredibly white in the warm sunbeams. To break the perfect repose of the rural scene there was but one moving figure, which was that of a rather small and stunted boy in a dark, quiet livery. His consequence, however, was sufficient for an army; as he strutted up and down the platform he was casting contemptuous glances at the low, white station-house, at the pastoral landscape, at the shining lines of rails. This superior being was presently aroused from the contemplation of his own greatness by the appearance of the train in the distance, when he immediately assumed a very business-like, wide-awake air. But the approach of the train had become known in other quarters also, and an official now issued from the low white building, carefully locking the door behind him. Upon the stoppage of the train it became apparent at once that there were but two passengers for Redbrook—one, a stout country- woman with a market basket upon her arm; the other a young man, who sprang briskly from his compartment, and made his way to the luggage van. Leaving the country-woman to get her fat self and her basket out as best she might, the solitary official bustled up to the first-class passenger. “Your luggage, sir? Was it labelled Redbrook? What name? ‘Smith,’ did you say, sir? Thank you.” But now the small and important servant came up, touching his hat, and speaking with a great air. ‘‘ Allow me, sir,” said he, taking a bag from the young man’s hand. ‘‘ What luggage have you? I'll see to it; the carriage is on the other side, sir.” Notwithstanding the re-assuring air and words, the traveller waited to see his portmanteau correctly out of the van; and then, glad of the fresh evening breeze, strolled round in the direction indicated by the servant. As soon as he had rounded the station-house, the young man, by name Jeffrey Smith, perceived a pony-carriage in waiting, and, seated in it, a young lady. She was attired in a plain print dress with only a few knots of pale-coloured ribbon here and there to relieve its monotony; upon her head was a wide straw hat, Gomicbooks. co m