Page:Under the Gaslight.djvu/45

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many children, some on 'em daughters grown. There's a many temptations for young gals, and sometimes the old man has to put on the brakes a bit, for some young men are wicked enough to persuade the gals to steal out of their father's house in the dead of night, and go to shame and misery. So tell me this—it ain't the old man, and the old man's home you've left, young lady?

Laura. No; you good, honest fellow—no—I have no father.

Signal. Then, by Jerusalem! I'll do for you what I can. Anything but run away from them that have not their interest but yours at heart. Come, you may stay there, but I'll have to lock you in.

Laura. I desire that you should.

Signal. It's for your safety as much as mine. I've got a patent lock on that door that would give a skeleton key the rheumatism to fool with it. You don't mind the baggage. I'll have to put it in with you, hoes, shovels, mowing machines, and what is this—axes. Yes, a bundle of axes. If the Superintendent finds me out, I ll ask him if he was afraid you'd run off with these. (Laughs.) So, if you please, I'll first tumble 'em in. (Puts goods in house, sitting on platform  looking at him. When all in, he comes towards her, taking up cheese-box to put it in Station.) I say, Miss, I ain't curious—but, of course, it's a young man you're a going to?

Laura. So far from that, it's a young man I'm running away from.

Signal. (Dropping box.) Running away from a young man! Let me shake hands with you. (Shakes her hand.) Lord, it does my heart good! At your age, too! (Seriously.) I wish you'd come and live down in my neighborhood a while, among my gals. (Shaking his head.) You'd do a power of good. (Putting box in station.)

Laura. I've met an excellent friend. And here at least I can be concealed until to-morrow—then for New York. My heart feels lighter already—it's a good omen.

Signal. Now, Miss, bless your heart, here's your hotel ready.

(Goes to switch and takes coat off, putting it on.)

Laura. Thanks, my good friend; but not a word to any one—till to-morrow; not even—not even to your girls.

Signal. Not a word, I promise you. If I told my girls, it would be over the whole village before morning. (She goes in. He locks door. appears at window facing audience.)

Laura. Lock me in safely.

Signal. Ah! be sure I will. There! (Tries door.) Safe as a jail. (Pulls out watch, and then looking at track with lantern.) Ten minutes and down she comes. It's all safe this way, my noisy beauty, and you may come as soon as you like. Good night, Miss!

Laura. (At window.) Good night.

Signal. Running away from young man, Ha! ha! ha!

(He goes to track, then looks down —lights his pipe and is trudging off, when enter from

Snorkey. Ten minutes before the train comes. I'll wait here for it. (To Signal man who re-enters.) Hollo, I say, the train won't stop here too long will it.

Signal. Too long? It won't stop here at all.

Snorkey. I must reach the shore to-night. There'll be murder done, unless I can prevent it!

Signal. Murder, or no murder, the train can't be stopped.