LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1355, 18 June 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

MARGERY FENNELL. [By the Author of " In the Dead of Night.' (Continued.) Four men armed with pistols bad gone to the signal box at Ottergate Junction. Their object was to seize on the signalman, James Clinch, and take possession of his box for the time being. When the mail was nearly due, they intended to turn on the danger signal instead of showing the ordinary white light, and so bring the train to a stand close to where they were waiting for it. This done, they, being armed and knowing there were ecldom many passengers in it, intended to rob the train. They had ascertained that some great treasure was to be conveyed by this particular train, and that treasure they were determined at all risks to make their own. Margery, knowing this, had ventured of her own accord to stop the train, and hoped she was right in doing so. By this time the group had been swelled by three or four passengers. 'Rum tale, Bill,' said the driver, dubiously, to the guard. ' What tro sure have we aboard to-night more than any other night ? ' 'Don't know,' answered the guard, 'unless it be this young woman's love le'ters, or maybe, her sweetheart come home from foreign parts.' 'I can answer the question,' said a grave voice from among the small group of passengers. ' I and my partner are taking down to O Castle a large and valuable box of jewellery. I think it quite possible this young woman's story may be true, and I can only imagine that, by some unaccountable means, certain dishonest individuals, having heard of our journey and its object, have hit upon this bold scheme for getting possession of the iewels.'

There was Bilenoe for a few moments ; then the guard, addressing the last speaker, said : ' Supposing the tale be true, what do you fcVnnk of doing, sir, to keep these rogues from getting hold of your property ? ' 'I hardy know what to do,' replied tho jeweller. ' Perhaps the best plan would be for me and my partner to leave the train here and take our property with us. We could make our way to the nearest village in which there's a tavern, and, having knocked ♦he people up, find shelter there till mornin .' ' Gentlemen,' said the guard, ' maybe you won't mind listening to a word from me. We've got her Majesty's mails aboard the train, and we're bound to go through with them, if it's possible for man to do so. What I propose is this—that we all go back to our posts as if nothing was the matter, and proceed on our journey, and then when we get in sight of Oitergate signals, if we find them dead against us, as no doubt we shall do if this young woman's story is true, instead of comirg to a stand, as we should otherwise have done, my friend Bill, the driver, shall put on all steam and run slick past the signalbox at the rate of sixty miles an hour. Let them lire at us if they like ; they'll be clever shots if they hit us. Three minutes later we shall reach Bickmore, where we can rouse the police and put 'm on the track of these bcamps ? ' After a brief consultation all the passengers, including Mr Howson, agreed to go forward with the train. Mr Howsod would have Margery in the same carriage with himself and hit- partners. Now that her share in the drama was at an end, all her anxious fears respecting her father came back with redoubled free. Her one wish was to gfjt b*ck home as soon as possible. The guard's programme was carried out to the letter. '1 he moment the distance-signal came in view, it was seen to be dead against them. Keeping on their course as though they had not seen it, a minute more brought into view the tall semaphore lamp, that shone, like a red, balefui eye, full of warni g and menace, high above the signalman's box at Otterga'te Junction. '< Whip her up," said the guard, who had taken lis place on the engine b side his friend Accordingly Bill did "whip her up " Steam was put on, and they shot past the box at the rate of more than a mile a minute. A momentary glimpse was had of three or four dark figures crowded into the bax, and then the darkneßS swallowed them up. Three minutes later the train drew up at Bickmore Station, he would be thieves had decamped long before the police could reach the Junction, but James ('linoh was found there, bound hand and foot, but otherwise utinjured. Blaok Dick and his friends, although they got clear away for the time being, were su!v seqir ntly implicated in some other atfairs in which they were not so fortunate, and met with the reward due t > their n.anifoid merits. ' laek Dick was discovered to be an old offender who had eh sen Chevertou as an out-of the-way spot to lie by in for a little while till the heat of pursuit in another part of the country should have time to grow cold. George Fennell coming to his senses about three o'clock in the morning, found himself, greatly to t is surprise, lying under a hedge within a quarter of a mile of his own door He had taken off Ida boots and hat, likewise his c at, which he had folded up and used as a pillow. 'I hen he had lain quietly down and gone to sleep. What had been his idea in so doing he never knew. '1 he result of his freak was a sharp attack <f rheumatic fever which laid him by the heels for three

months, and left him ever after a sober and a wiser man.

Mr Howson and his partner were rich men, and both of them were anxious to show their gratitude for the strange service done them by Margery Pennell. But there was nothing they could do for her, Margery said. They did, however, pay the doctor's bill for her father's long illness, ami saw that he wanted for nothing during that anxious time. Mr Howson ottered to have Margery educated, with a view to improving her position in after life, but Margery said that her place was by her father's side, and that nothing should induce her to leave him. ' I wish 1 could show iny gratitude in some substantial way,' said Mr Howson to her one day, 'la there nothing I can do V ' Yes, ' said Margery, ' there is one thing you can do,' and never till that moment had the thought struck her. 'My sister—let her be seen by some of the great London doctors. Oh 1 sir, if they could but cure her—if they could but make her poor back straight and strong, I should be the happiest girl in England '

Several years have gone by since the above words were spoken. Margery is the happy wife of James Clinch, and James himself is •he station master at Bickmore. But you would never believe that that tall and elegant-looking joung lady had ever been the poor decrepit ci.ild who used to lie coiled up in an old clothes-basket and talk to the clock in the lorner. Mrs Howson, who has no children of her own, has adopted and educated her. The dreamy, fanciful child has found an outlet for her dreams and faucies in music. Already her playing is pronounced to be fall of genius. People who ought to know say that she will one day develop into a great artist.