to the starting of the morning mailtrain for Birmingham. To the unoccupied observer the scene might have been an amusing one-the little domestic incidents of leave-taking and embracing the careful looking after luggage and parcels the watchful anxieties for a lost cloak, or a stray carpet-bag, blending with the affectionate farewells of parting, are all curious, while the studious preparations for comfort of the old gentleman in the coupé, oddly contrast with similar arrangements on a more limited scale by the poor soldier's wife in the third-class carriage.

Small as the segment of humanity is, it is a type of the great world to which it belongs.

"nor

I sauntered carelessly along the boarded terrace, investigating, by the light of the guard's lantern, the inmates of the different carriages—and, calling to my assistance my tact as a physiognomist as to what party I should select for my fellow-passengers-" not in there, assuredly," said I to myself, as I saw the aquiline noses and dark eyes of two Hamburgh Jews; here, either-I cannot stand a day in a nursery; nor will this party suit me, that old gentleman is snoring already;" and so I walked on until at last I bethought me of an empty carriage, as at least possessing negative benefits, since positive ones were denied me. Scarcely had the churlish determination seized me, when the glare of the light fell upon the side of a bonnet of white lace, through whose transparent texture a singularly lovely profile could be seen. Features, purely Greek in their character, tinged with a most delicate colour, were defined by a dark mass of hair, worn in a deep band along the cheek almost to the chin. There was a sweetness-a look of guileless innocence in the character of the face which, even by the flitting light of the lantern, struck me strongly. I made the guard halt, and peeped into the carriage as if seeking for a friend. By the uncertain flickering, I could detect the figure of a man, apparently a young one, by the lady's side; the carriage had no other traveller. "This will do," thought I, as I opened the door, and took my place on the opposite side.

Every traveller knows that locomotion must precede conversation;

the veriest common-place cannot be hazarded, till the piston is in motion, or the paddles are flapping. The word "go on," is as much for the passengers as the vehicle, and the train and the tongues are set in movement together; as for myself, I have been long upon the road, and might travestie the words of our native poet, and say

"My home is on the highway."

I have therefore cultivated, and I trust, with some success, the tact of divining the characters, condition, and rank of my fellow-travellers-the speculation on whose peculiarities, has often served to wile away the tediousness of many a wearisome road, and many an uninteresting journey.

The little lamp which hung aloft, gave me but slight opportunity of prosecuting my favourite study on this occasion. All that I could trace, was the outline of a young and delicatelyformed girl, enveloped in a cachmere shawl-a slight and inadequate muffling for the road at such a season. gentleman at her side was attired in what seemed a dress-coat, nor was he provided with any other defence against the cold of the morning.

The

Scarcely had I ascertained these two facts, when the lamp flared, flickered, and went out, leaving me to speculate on these vague, but yet remarkable traits in the couple before me. "What can they be?" "who are they?" "where do they come from?" "where are they going?" were all questions which naturally presented themselves to me in turn; yet, every inquiry resolved itself into the one, "why has she not a cloak? why has not he got a Petersham?" Long and patiently did I discuss these points with myself, and framed numerous hypotheses to account for the circumstance-but still with comparatively little satisfaction, as objections presented themselves to each conclusion; and although, in turn, I had made him a runaway clerk from Coutts's, a Liverpool actor, a member of the swell-mob, and a bagman-yet I could not, for the life of me, include her in the category of such an individual's companions. Neither spoke, so that from their voices, that best of all tests, nothing could be learned.

Wearied by my doubts, and worried by the interruption to my sleep, the

early rising necessitated, I fell soon into a sound doze, lulled by the soothing "strains" a locomotive so eminently is endowed with. The tremulous quavering of the carriage, the dull roll of the heavy wheels, the convulsive beating and heaving of the black monster itself, gave the tone to my sleeping thoughts, and my dreams were of the darkest. I thought that, in a gloomy silence, we were journeying over a wild and trackless plain, with no sight nor sound of man, save such as accompanied our sad procession; that dead and leafless trees were grouped about, and roofless dwellings and blackened walls marked the dreary earth; dark sluggish streams stole heavily past, with noisome weeds upon their surface; while along the sedgy banks, sat leprous and glossy reptiles, glaring, with round eyes, upon us. Suddenly, it seemed as if our speed increased; the earth and sky flew faster past, and objects became dim and indistinct; a misty maze of dark plain, and clouded heaven, were all I could discern; while straight in front, by the lurid glare of a fire, whose sparks flitted round and about, two dark shapes danced a wild and goblin measure, tossing their black limbs with frantic gesture, while they brandished in their hands bars of seething iron; one, larger, and more dreadful than the other, sung in a "rauque" voice, that sounded like the clank of machinery, a rude song, beating time to the tune with his iron bar. The monotonous measure of the chant, which seldom varied in its note, sank deep into my chilled heart-and I think I hear still,

THE SONG OF THE STOKER.

Rake, rake, rake,

Ashes, cinders, and coal; The fire we make,

Must never slake,

Like the fire that roasts a soul. Hurrah ! my boys, 'tis a glorious noise, To list to the stormy main; But, nor wave-lash'd shore, Nor lion's roar,

E'er equal'd a luggage train. 'Neath the panting sun, our course we

run,

No water to slake our thirst;

Nor ever a pool,

Our tongue to cool,

Except the boiler burst.

"Bang, bang, bang," said I, aloud, repeating this infernal "refrain,” and with an energy that made my two fellow-travellers burst out laughing. This awakened me from my sleep, and enabled me to throw off the fearful incubus which rested on my bosom ; so strongly, however, was the image of my dream-so vivid the picture my mind had conjured up-and stranger than all, so perfect was the memory of the demoniac song, that I could not help relating the whole vision, and repeating for my companions the words, as I have here done for the reader. As I proceeded in my narrative, I had ample time to observe the couple before me. The lady, for it is but suitable to begin with her, was young, she could scarcely have been more than twenty-and looked, by the broad daylight, even handsomer than by the glare of the guard's lantern; she was

slight, but as well as I could observe, her figure was very gracefully formed, and with a decided air of elegance, detectable even in the ease and repose of her attitude. Her dress was of pale blue silk, around the collar of which she wore a profusion of rich lace, of what peculiar loom I am, unhappily, unable to say-nor would I allude to the circumstance, save, that it formed one of the most embarrassing problems in my efforts at divining her rank and condition; never was there such a travelling costume, and although it suited perfectly the frail and delicate beauty of the wearer, it ill accorded with the dingy "conveniency" in which we journeyed-even to her shoes and stockings, for I noticed these—the feet were perfect and gloves; all the details of her dress had a freshness and propriety one rarely or ever sees encountering the wear and tear of the road. The young gentleman at her side for he, too, was scarcely more than five-and-twenty, at most—was also attired in a costume as little like that of a traveller-a dress-coat and evening waistcoat, over which a profusion of chains were festooned in that mode so popular in our day, showed that he certainly, in arranging his costume, had other thoughts than of wasting such attractions on the desert air of a railroad journey. He was a good-looking young fellow, with that

mixture of frankness and careless ease the youth of England so eminently possess, in contradistinction to the young men of other countries; his manner and voice both attested that he belonged to a good class; and the general courtesy of his demeanour showed one who had lived in society. While he evinced an evident desire to enter into conversation and amuse his companion, there was still an appearance of agitation and incertitude about him, which showed that his mind was wandering very far from the topic before him. More than once checked himself, in the course of some casual merriment, and became suddenly grave-while, from time to time, he whispered to the young lady, with an appearance of anxiety and eagerness, all his endeavours could not effectually conceal. She, too, seemed agitated-but, I thought, less

SO

he

than he; it might be, however, that from the habitual quietude

of her manner, the traits of emotion were less detectable by a stranger. We had not journeyed far, when several new travellers entered the carriage, and thus broke up the little intercourse which had begun to be established between us. The new arrivals were amusing enough in their way-there was a hearty old Quaker from Leeds, who was full of a dinner party he had been at with Feargus O'Connor, the day before; there was an interesting young fellow who had obtained a fellowship at Cambridge, and was going down to visit his family; and lastly, a loud-talking, loud-laughing member of the tail, in the highest possible spirits at the prospect of Irish politics, and exulting in the festivities he was about to witness at Derrynane Abbey, whither he was then proceeding with some other Danaides, to visit, what Tom Steele calls, "his august leader." My young friends, however, partook little in the amusement the newly arrived travellers afforded; they neither relished the broad, quaint, common sense of the Quaker-the conversational cleverness of the Cambridge man-or the pungent, though somewhat coarse, drollery of the " Emeralder." They sat either totally silent or conversing in a low, indistinct murmur, with their heads turned towards each other. The Quaker left us at Warwick-the "Fellow" took his leave soon afterand the O' somebody was left behind at a station; the last thing I heard of him, being his frantic shouting as the train moved off, while he was endeavouring to swallow a glass of hot brandy and water. We were alone then once more, but somehow the interval which had occurred had chilled the warm current of our intercourse; perhaps, too, the effects of a long day's journey were telling on us all, and we felt that indisposition to converse which steals over even the most habitual traveller towards the close of a day on the road. Partly from these causes, and more strongly still from my dislike to obtrude conversation upon those whose minds were evidently pre-occupied, I too lay back in my seat and indulged my own reflections in silence. I had sat for some time thus, I know not exactly how long, when the voice of the young lady struck on my ear; it was one of those sweet, tinkling, silver sounds which

somehow when heard, however slightly, have the effect at once to dissipate the dull routine of one's own thoughts, and suggest others more relative to the speaker.

"Had you not better ask him!' said she; "I am sure he can tell you." The youth apparently demurred, while she insisted the more, and at length, as if yielding to her entreaty, he suddenly turned towards me and said, "I'm a perfect stranger here, and would feel obliged if you could inform me which is the best hotel in Liverpool." He made a slight pause, and added, "I mean a quiet, family hotel."

"I rarely stop in the town myself," replied I; "but when I do, to breakfast or dine, I take the Adelphi; I'm sure you will find it very comfortable."

They again conversed for a few moments together, and the young man, with an appearance of some hesitation, said, "Do you mean to go there now, sir?"

"Yes," said I, "my intention is to take a hasty dinner before I start in the steamer for Ireland; I see by my watch I shall have ample time to do so, as we shall arrive full half an hour before our time."

Another pause, and another little discussion ensued, the only words of which I could catch from the young lady being, "I'm certain he will have no objection." Conceiving that these referred to myself, and guessing at their probable import, I immediately said, "If you will allow me to be your guide, I shall feel most happy to show you the way; we can obtain a carriage at the station, and proceed thither at once."

I was right in my surmise-both parties were profuse in their acknowledgments the young man avowing that it was the very request he was about to make when I anticipated him. We arrived in due time at the station, and having assisted my new acquaintances to alight, I found little difficulty in placing them in a carriage, for luggage they had none, neither portmanteau nor carpet-bag-not even a dressing-case-a circumstance at which, however I might have endeavoured to avoid expressing my wonder, they seemed to feel required an expla nation at their hands; both looked confused and abashed-nor was it until by busying myself in the details

of my own baggage, that I was enabled to relieve them from the embarrassment the circumstance occasioned.

"Here we are," said I: "this is the Adelphi," as we stopped at that comfortable and hospitable portal, through which the fumes of brown gravy and ox-tail float with a savory odour, as pleasant to him who enters with dinner intentions, as it is tantalizing to the listless wanderer without.

The lady thanked me with a smile, as I handed her into the house, and a very sweet smile too, and one I could have fancied the young man would have felt a little jealous of, if I had not seen the ten times more fascinating one she bestowed on him.

The young man acknowledged my slight service with thanks, and made a half gesture to shake hands at parting, which, though a failure, I rather liked, as evidencing, even in its awk-. wardness, a kindness of dispositionfor so it is. Gratitude smacks poorly when expressed in trim and measuredphrase it seems not the natural coinage of the heart, when the impression betrays too clearly the mint of the mind.

"Good bye," said I, as I watched their retiring figures up the wide staircase. "She's devilish pretty-and what a good figure-I did not think any other than a French woman could adjust her shawl in that fashion." And with these very soothing reflections I betook myself to the coffee-room, and soon was deep in discussing the distinctive merits of mulligatawny, mockturtle, and mutton chops, or listening to that everlasting pan every waiter in England sings in praise of the "joint."

In all the luxury of my own little table, with my own little salt-seller, my own cruet-stand, my beer-glass, and its younger brother for wine, I sat awaiting the arrival of my fare, and puzzling my brain as to the unknown travellers. Now had they been but clothed in the ordinary fashion of the road-if the lady had worn a plaid cloak and a beaver bonnet-if the gentleman had a brown Taglioni and a cloth cap, with a cigar-case peeping out of his breast-pocket, like every body else in this smoky world-had they but the ordinary allowance of trunks and boxes-I should have been coolly conning over the leading arti

cle of "The Times," or enjoying the spicy leader in the last Examiner; but no-they had shrouded themselves in a mystery, though not in garments; and the result was, that I, gifted with that inquiring spirit which Paul Pry informs us is the characteristic of the age, actually tortured myselfinto a fever as to who and what they might be the origin, the course, and the probable termination of their present adventure -for an adventure I determined it must be. "People do such odd things now a-days," said I, "there's no knowing what the deuce they may be at. I wish I even knew their names, for I am certain I shall read to-morrow or the next day in the second column of The Times: Why will not W. P. and C. P. return to their afflicted friends? Write at least-write to your bereaved parents, No. 12, Russell-square; or, if F. M. S. will not inform her mother whither she has gone, the deaths of more than two of the family will be the consequence.' Now could I only find out their names, I could relieve so much family apprehension"-here comes the soup, however-admirable relief to a worried brain-how every mouthful swamps reflection-even the platitude of the waiter's face is, as the Methodists say, "a blessed privilege," so agreeably does it divert the mind of a thought the more, and suggest that pleasant vacuity so essential to the hour of dinner. The tureen was gone, and then came one of those strange intervals which all taverns bestow, as if to test the extent of endurance and patience of their guests.

My thoughts turned at once to their old track. "I have it," said I,as a bloodyminded suggestion shot through my brain. "This is an affair of charcoal and oxalic acid-this is some damnable device of arsenic or sugar-of-leadthese young wretches have come down here to poison themselves, and be smothered in that mede latterly introduced among us. There will be a doublelocked door and smell of carbonic gas through the key-hole in the morning. I have it all before me, even to the maudlin letter, with its twenty-one verses of bad poetry at the foot of it. I think I hear the coroner's charge, and see the three shillings and eight pence halfpenny produced before the jury, that were found in the youth's possession, together with a small key and a bill for a

luncheon at Birmingham. By Jove, I will prevent it though; I will spoil their fun this time; if they will have physic, let them have something just as nauseous, but not so injurious. My own notion is a basin of this soup and a slice of the joint,' and here it comes;" and thus my meditations were again destined to be cut short, and reverie give way to reality.

I was just helping myself to my second slice of mutton, when the young man entered the coffee-room, and walked towards me. At first, his manner evinced hesitation and indecision, and he turned to the fire-place, as if with some change of purpose, then, as if suddenly summoning his resolution, he came up to the table at which I sat, and said

"Will you favour me with five minutes of your time?"

"By all means," said I, "sit down here, and I'm your man; you must excuse me, though, if I proceed with my dinner, as I see it is past six o'clock, and the packet sails at seven.'

66

Pray, proceed," replied he, "your doing so, will in part excuse the liberty I take, in obtruding myself upon you.'

He paused, and although I waited for him to resume, he appeared in no humour to do so, but seemed more confused than before.

"Hang it," said he at length, "I am a very bungling negociator, and never, in my life, could manage a matter of any difficulty."

"Take a glass of sherry," said I, "try if that may not assist to recall your faculties."

"No, no," cried he, "I have taken a bottle of it already, and, by Jove, I rather think my head is only the more addled. Do you know that I am in a most confounded scrape, I have run away with that young lady; we were at an evening party last-night together, and came straight away from the supper table to the train."

"Indeed!" said I, laying down my knife and fork, not a little gratified that I was at length to learn the secret that had so long teazed me. "And, so you have run away with her!"

"Yes; it was no sudden thought, however at least, it was an old attachment; I have known her these two months."

"Oh! oh!" said I; "then, there was prudence in the affair."