With Rifle and Bayonet: A Story of the Boer War. Brereton Frederick Sadleir
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“Why, that’s the train in which Father said he should return this evening!” exclaimed Jack, suddenly feeling a chill of fear run through his body.
“Come with me then, lad,” cried the doctor. “This way. It’s only a few hundred yards. Perhaps you will be of use. Go back to the station, my man,” he called out as they were setting off, “and tell the station-master to send out blankets, brandy, and any linen he can get hold of, as quickly as he can. Come along, Jack. I can hear the engine.”
They both put their animals into a gallop, jumped a narrow ditch which flanked the road, dashed across a broad stretch of common land, and finally pulled up at a gate which closed a level crossing over the railway. The engine and truck were already there.
“Hitch your reins on to this post,” said Dr Hanly calmly, making his own horse fast. “Now, on to the engine! Every moment may be of the utmost value. Send her ahead, my man.”
Jack climbed on to the foot-plate of the engine, followed by the doctor, who at once sat down on the driver’s seat and proceeded to inspect sundry instruments and bandages with which two capacious side pockets of his coat were stocked. He was as cool as if on an ordinary journey. Carefully selecting three of his instruments, he put the case back in his pocket, and commenced to cut a sheet of lint into small strips. These he folded up methodically and gave to Jack to hold. Then he rose to his feet, and looked along the line in front, waiting quietly for the moment when the engine should reach the scene of the disaster, and enable him to commence his work of rescuing the injured. What a contrast there was between this dapper little man, cool and collected, with all his wits about him, waiting for his work to begin with a quietness born of long experience, and Jack, standing on the other side of the foot-plate, dodging his head from side to side to obtain a better view of the rails, holding the bundle of lint with fingers which trembled with nervous excitement, whilst his heart thumped against his ribs with a force which almost frightened him!
“Steady, Jack, steady!” exclaimed the doctor, smiling encouragingly at him. “Nothing was ever done well in a hurry. Keep cool, and you will be able to help me considerably. Ah, there it is! We shall be close up in a few seconds.”
As the doctor spoke the engine ran round a wide curve, and came in full sight of the spot where the accident had occurred. The axle of the driving-wheels of the express engine had suddenly snapped, causing the whole train to leave the rails, and plough along on the gravel. Then the heavy engine had suddenly toppled over and come to an abrupt halt, while the carriages had been piled on top of it and on one another in hopeless confusion.
It was indeed a dreadful disaster. The guard’s van and the first passenger truck lay crushed out of all shape on the gravel, while on top of them the others were heaped in disorder, with dangling wheels and shattered woodwork, the whole being surmounted by the last carriage of all, the end of which was thrown up as high as a house in the air.
About twenty men had already collected near, and these at once set to work, at Dr Hanly’s orders, to climb into the carriages and bring out the passengers. Jack joined in the work, feeling giddy and thoroughly upset at the awful sights he saw, and dreading that every body taken from the wreckage would prove to be his father’s.
But the doctor, guessing what his feelings were, called him to help in bandaging up one of the injured passengers, and kept him hard at work for an hour at least; so that when Captain Somerton’s body was at last discovered, crushed almost out of recognition, Jack was not there to see it and be shocked at the sight. Indeed, he did not hear the tidings for some time, for the doctor required his help; and before long Jack was so much absorbed in his work that he had forgotten his nervousness, and was applying splints and bandages together with his friend with a skill and coolness which would have done credit to an older hand. But all the time he was oppressed by a feeling that a calamity had befallen him.
When all the injured had been seen to, Jack was at liberty to make enquiries, when he soon learnt that his father was among the killed.
“It is a sad thing, my dear boy, a shocking accident,” murmured Dr Hanly, taking him on one side, “and your grief is natural, for you have lost the best friend you ever had in the world. Go home now and break the news. I will come to-morrow, and after that, if you are in any difficulty come to me.”
The next few days were exceedingly trying ones for Jack. Frampton Grange was even more miserable than before, for there was no sympathy amongst the inmates, and therefore no consolation in talking to one another about the terrible accident which had led to Captain Somerton’s death.
Two days were occupied in attending and giving evidence at the inquest; then there was the funeral, after which Mrs Somerton and her two sons returned to the Grange with Dr Hanly, a few relatives of the deceased captain, and two austere gentlemen, who proved to be lawyers. The will of the late owner of the house was then produced.
A quarter of an hour later it had been read, the party had broken up, and Jack found himself the future owner of Frampton Grange and all the wealth his father had possessed, and alone in the world save for a stepmother and stepbrother who cared little for him.
Captain Somerton had made one very big mistake during his life. He had married, for the second time, a woman upon whom his choice should never have fallen. This he recognised too late, but not so late as to prevent him from altering his will accordingly.
“I leave to my son, John Hartly Somerton, all that I possess,” ran the will, “to be held in trust by my wife and Dr Hanly, the former of whom shall have the use of Frampton Grange till the said John Hartly Somerton shall attain the age of twenty-six.”
Mention was made that Mrs Somerton had sufficient means of her own to live in the same style as before. In addition to this, there were various small legacies to the servants, a sum was set aside for Jack’s education and for his expenses in entering the army, and another sum for the upkeep of the Grange until it came into his own management.
“Come over and see me to-morrow, Jack,” whispered the doctor as soon as the will had been read. “I am now a kind of guardian to you, and shall feel it my business to give you advice. I shall be in about tea-time, when we can be sure of a quiet chat.”
“Thanks, Doctor,” replied Jack. “You can expect me at the time you mention.”
On the following afternoon, therefore, Jack mounted his pony and rode through the village and away up the hill to the doctor’s house.
“Now, my boy, what are you going to do with yourself?” asked the doctor, when they had finished their tea and were strolling in the garden.
“Well, first of all, as you know, Doctor, I am not to go back to school. I am awfully sorry, as I have been very happy there, and we hoped to pull off some good cricket matches this term. But now that is all knocked on the head for me. Do you know, I believe Father had some kind of feeling that something was going to happen to him, for he left a letter with the lawyer instructing me to leave school and begin coaching for the army immediately his death occurred. He mentioned that he would like me to read at home with Frank, but really, Doctor, I feel more inclined to go straight up to London, as I had intended all along. You know Frank and I are not too friendly. We don’t get on well together; and I’m afraid I don’t hit it off very well with Mother either.”
“Yes, I know that, my boy. It’s very unfortunate,” remarked Dr Hanly. “Still, it is the case. I believe you will do well to go up to London at an early date, for, if I am any judge, you are still more likely to quarrel at home