"That I should not, Jack."
The youth then handed his young sweetheart into one of the vehicles in waiting, and off they started for the railway, where they found they had to wait ten minutes.
To occupy the time they strolled up and down the platform.
Suddenly Harry Girdwood exclaimed--
"Why, where is Mr. Mole? Did he come in your carriage, Jack?"
"No; I thought he was with you."
"Left behind, by Jove!" exclaimed Harvey.
"Serve him right if I left him behind entirely," said Harkaway senior, rather angrily.
He was on the point of sending one of the porters back to the hotel, when Mr. Mole appeared.
Now there were two things that had delayed him.
One was that on the very morning Mr. Mole had mounted a new pair of artificial legs made by the very best surgical instrument maker in Ma.r.s.eilles.
Some time had been taken over the proper adjustment of these.
For the second reason--Mr. Mole had discovered that the hotel cellars contained some excellent brandy, and he had been taking a parting gla.s.s with the Irish diver before commencing his journey.
And as he now made his appearance on the railway platform, he was any thing but steady on his new legs.
"Better late than never, Mr. Mole," said Harvey.
"I am not late."
"Yes, sir. Two minutes more, and the train will be here."
An engine was in fact at that moment shunting some carriages which were to be attached to the train.
Mr. Mole turned on hearing the noise of the approaching locomotive.
But being, as aforesaid, slightly unsteady on his legs, he fell.
Fell right across the metals.
"Oh! help!" he cried.
But before anyone could stir, the engine was upon him.
The porters shouted, the ladies screamed with fright.
"Oh, Heaven! is it not horrible?" exclaimed a French man. "Did you not hear the bones crash as the wheels went over his legs?"
"Over his legs," shouted Harvey. "Ha, ha! if that is all, it does not matter much."
The engine stopped, and Mole was rescued from his perilous position.
He had fainted, but a gla.s.s of water restored him.
"Are you hurt, old man?" asked d.i.c.k.
"No; I think not. It"s only my legs, nothing else."
"Great Heaven, what a narrow escape!"
"So it is; but here is a nuisance, both my legs cut clean off, six inches above the ankle."
"Here, porter, put this gentleman in a first-cla.s.s carriage," said Harkaway senior.
"But, monsieur, he must be taken to the hospital; the surgeon is close at hand."
"Doctor be hanged! This gentleman must go to Paris by the next train."
The porters, being evidently unwilling to touch Mr. Mole, Harkaway said--
"Here, lend a hand, old man."
"All right," responded Harvey.
The pair of them immediately hoisted Mr. Mole into the carriage, the others took their seats, the engineer blew his whistle, and off they went.
To complete the horror of the spectators, who admired Mole"s fort.i.tude, and loathed the apparent barbarity of his friends, as the train was moving off, Harvey was plainly seen to cut off the old gentleman"s shattered limbs, and pitch them into some empty goods waggons that were going in another direction.
"What horrid barbarians!" was the general exclamation of the bewildered spectators of the strange scene.
"A pretty object you have made of me certainly," grumbled Mole, looking down at his curtailed legs.
"Your own fault, Mr. Mole," responded Harvey.
"Lucky it was not your head, Mr. Mole," said young Jack.
"You are all against me, I see, but it does not matter."
So saying, Mole took out his pocket flask and was about to refresh himself.
But Harkaway senior, stretching out his hand, took the flask.
"No, Mr. Mole; if you have any more, I fear we shall have a more serious accident. So not a drop till the first time we stop."
"Why, this is a mail train, and only stops about every two hours."
"And I am quite sure you can exist without brandy for that little time."