Between the Dark and the Daylight. Richard Marsh
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We had not gone far before I had reason to doubt the genuineness of Mr. Holman's conversion. Drawing the back of his hand across his lips, he remarked to Mr. Eva--
"It do seem as if this were going to be a thirsty job. 'Tain't my notion of a holiday----"
I repeat that I make no attempt to imitate the dialect. Perceiving himself addressed, Mr. Eva put his hand up to his ear.
"Beg pardon--what were that you said?"
"I say that I be perishing for something to drink. I be faint for want of it. What's a day's pleasure if you don't never have a chance to moisten your lips?"
Although this was said in a tone of voice which caused the foot-passengers to stand and stare, the driver to start round in his seat, as if he had been struck, and the conductor to come up to inquire if anything were wrong, it failed to penetrate Mr. Eva's tympanum.
"What be that?" the old gentleman observed.
"It do seem as if I were more deaf than usual."
I touched Mr. Holman on the shoulder.
"All right--leave him alone. I'll see that you have what you want when we get down; only don't try to make him understand while we're on this 'bus."
"Thank you kindly, sir. There's no denying that a taste of rum would do me good. John Eva, he be terrible hard of hearing--terrible; and the old girl she ain't a notion of what's fit for a man."
How much the insides saw of London I cannot say. I doubt if any one on the roof saw much. In my anxiety to alight on one with room I had not troubled about the destination of the 'bus. As, however, it proved to be bound for London Bridge, I had an opportunity to point out St. Paul's Cathedral, the Bank of England, and similar places. I cannot say that my hearers seemed much struck by the privileges they were enjoying. When the vehicle drew up in the station-yard, Mr. Holman pointed with his thumb--
"There be a public over there."
I admitted that there was.
"Here's a shilling for you--mind you're quickly back. Perhaps Mr. Poltifen would like to come with you."
Mr. Poltifen declined.
"I am a teetotaller. I have never touched alcohol in any form."
I felt that Mr. Poltifen regarded both myself and my proceedings with austere displeasure. When all had alighted, my aunt, proceeding to number the party, discovered that one was missing; also, who it was.
"Where is Matthew Holman?"
"He's--he's gone across the road to--to see the time."
"To see the time! There's a clock up over the station there. What do you mean?"
"The fact is, my dear aunt, that feeling thirsty he has gone to get something to drink."
"To drink! But he signed the pledge on Monday!"
"Then, in that case, he's broken it on Wednesday. Come, let's get inside the station; we can't stop here; people will wonder who we are."
"Thomas, we will wait here for Matthew Holman. I am responsible for that man."
"Certainly, my dear aunt; but if we remain on the precise spot on which we are at present planted, we shall be prosecuted for obstruction. If you will go into the station, I will bring him to you there."
"Where are you going to take us now?"
"To the Crystal Palace."
"But--we have seen nothing of London."
"You'll see more of it when we get to the Palace. It's a wonderful place, full of the most stupendous sights; their due examination will more than occupy all the time you have to spare."
Having hustled them into the station, I went in search of Mr. Holman. "The converted drunkard" was really enjoying himself for the first time. He had already disposed of four threepennyworths of rum, and was draining the last as I came in.
"Now, sir, if you was so good as to loan me another shilling, I shouldn't wonder if I was to have a nice day, after all."
"I dare say. We'll talk about that later on. If you don't want to be lost in London, you'll come with me at once."
I scrambled them all into a train; I do not know how. It was a case of cram. Selecting an open carriage, I divided the party among the different compartments. My aunt objected; but it had to be. By the time that they were all in, my brow was damp with perspiration. I looked around. Some of our fellow-passengers wore ribbons, about eighteen inches wide, and other mysterious things; already, at that hour of the day, they were lively. The crowd was not what I expected.
"Is there anything on at the Palace?" I inquired of my neighbour. He laughed, in a manner which was suggestive.
"Anything on? What ho! Where are you come from? Why, it's the Foresters' Day. It's plain that you're not one of us. More shame to you, sonny! Here's a chance for you to join."
Foresters' Day! I gasped. I saw trouble ahead. I began to think that I had made a mistake in tearing off to the Crystal Palace in search of solitude. I had expected a desert, in which my aunt's friends would have plenty of room to knock their heads against anything they pleased. But Foresters' Day! Was it eighty or a hundred thousand people who were wont to assemble on that occasion? I remembered to have seen the figures somewhere. The ladies and gentlemen about us wore an air of such conviviality that one wondered to what heights they would attain as the day wore on.
We had a delightful journey. It occupied between two and three hours--or so it seemed to me. When we were not hanging on to platforms we were being shunted, or giving the engine a rest, or something of the kind. I know we were stopping most of the time. But the Foresters, male and female, kept things moving, if the train stood still. They sang songs, comic and sentimental; played on various musical instruments, principally concertinas; whistled; paid each other compliments; and so on. Jane and Ellen were in the next compartment to mine--as usual, glued together; how those two girls managed to keep stuck to each other was a marvel. Next to them was the persevering Daniel Dyer. In front was a red-faced gentleman, with a bright blue tie and an eighteen-inch-wide green ribbon. He addressed himself to Mr. Dyer.
"Two nice young ladies you've got there, sir."
Judging from what he looked like at the back, I should say that Mr. Dyer grinned. Obviously Jane and Ellen tittered: they put their heads together in charming confusion. The red-faced gentleman continued--
"One more than your share, haven't