“Ha! Indeed!” said the gentleman loftily. “I shall not — ah — dispute the matter with you.” And he resumed his seat, whilst his daughter, who had looked curiously at Jack for a moment, turned again to the landscape with her former chagrined expression.
For some time after this they travelled in peace: the old gentleman engaged with his paper: Jack chuckling over his recent retort. The speed of the train now increased speed; and the musician became exhilarated as the telegraph poles shot past, hardly visible.
When the train reached a part of the line at which the rails were elevated on iron chairs, the smooth grinding of the wheels changed to a rhythmic clatter. The racket became deafening; and Jack’s exhilaration had risen to a reckless excitement, when he was recalled to his senses by the gentleman, whom he had forgotten, calling out:
“Sir: will you oblige me by stopping those infernal noises.”
Jack, confused, suddenly ceased to grind his teeth and whistle through them. Then he laughed and said goodhumoredly, “I beg your pardon: I am a composer.”
“Then have the goodness to remember that you are not now in a printing office,” said the gentleman, evidently Supposing him to be a compositor. “You are annoying this lady, and driving me distracted with your hissing.”
“I do not mind it in the least” said the lady stubbornly.
“Magdalen: I have already desired you twice to be silent.”
“I shall speak if I please,” she muttered. Her father pretended not to hear her, and sat still for the next ten minutes, during which he glanced at Jack several times, with an odd twinkle in his eye. Then he said:
“What did you say you were, sir, may I ask?”
“A composer.”
“You are a discomposer, sir,” cried the old gentleman man promptly. “You are a discomposer.” And he began a chirping laughter, which Jack, after a pause of wonder, drowned with a deeptoned roar of merriment. Even the lady, determined as she was to be sulky, could not help smiling. Her father then took up the newspaper, and hid his face with it, turning his back to Jack, who heard him occasionally laughing to himself.
“I wish I had something to read,” said the young lady after some time, turning discontentedly from the window.
“A little reflexion will do you no harm,” said her parent. “A little reflexion, and, I will add, Magdalen, a little repentance perhaps.”
“I have nothing but disappointment and misery to reflect about, and I have no reason to be repentant. Please get me a novel at the next station — or give me some money, and I will get one myself.”
“Certainly not. You are not to be trusted with money. I forbid you ever to open a novel again. It is from such pestilential nonsense that you got the ideas which led to your present disgraceful escapade. Now, I must beg of you not to answer me, Magdalen. I do not wish to enter into a discussion with you, particularly before strangers.”
“Then do not make strangers believe that—”
“Hold your tongue, Magdalen. Do you disobey me intentionally? You should be ashamed to speak to me.”
The young lady bit her lip and reddened. “I think—” she began.
“Be silent.” cried her father, seizing his umbrella and rapping it peremptorily on the floor. Jack sprang up.
“Sir,” he said: “how dare you behave so to a lady?”
“This lady is my daughter, k — k — confound your impertinence,” replied the other irascibly.
“Then don’t treat her as if she were your dog,” retorted Jack “I am an artist, sir — an artist — a poet; and I will not permit a young and beautiful woman to be tyrannized in my presence.”
“It I were a younger man—” began the gentleman, grasping his umbrella
“If you were,” shouted Jack, “you would have nothing but tenderness and respect for the lady; or else, by the power of sound, I would pulverize you—” allegro martellatissimo — on the spot.”
“Do not threaten me, sir,” said the old gentleman spiritedly, rising and confronting his adversary. “What right have you to interfere with the affairs of strangers — perfect strangers? Are you mad, sir; or are you merely ignorant?”
“Neither. I am as well versed in the usages of the world as you; and I have sworn not to comply with them when they demand a tacit tolerance of oppression. The laws of society, sir, are designed to make the world easy for cowards and liars. And lest by the infirmity of my nature I should become either the one or the other, or perhaps both, I never permit myself to witness tyranny without rebuking it, or to hear falsehood without exposing it. If more people were of my mind, you would never have dared to take it for granted that I would witness your insolence towards your daughter without interfering to protect her.”
To this speech the old gentleman could find no reply. He stared at Jack a few moments, and then, saying, “I request you to mind your own business, sir. I have nothing to say to you,” went back in dudgeon to his seat. The lady then leaned forward and said haughtily, “Your interference is quite unnecessary, thank you. I can take care of myself.”
“Aye,” retorted Jack, frowning at her: “you are like other children. I was not such a fool as to expect gratitude from you.” The girl blushed and looked away towards the landscape. Her father again stared at Jack, who resumed his seat with a bounce; folded his arms; and glowered. Five minutes later the train stopped; and the guard came for their tickets.
“I relied on you,” said the gentleman to him, for an empty carriage. Instead of that, I have had a most unpleasant journey. I have been annoyed — damnably annoyed.”
“Ha! ha!” roared Jack. “Ha! ha! ha!”
The guard turned sternly to him, and said, “Ticket, sir, please,” as though he expected the ticket to prove a third class one. When he received it he held it between his lips, whilst he opened a memorandum and then continued, “I want your name and address, sir, please.”
“What for?”
“For getting in when the train was in motion, sir, at Slough. The Company’s orders are strict against it. You might have been killed, sir.”
“And what the devil is it to the Company whether I am killed or not?”
“Be quick, sir, please,” said the guard, uncertain whether to coax or be peremptory. “Our time is up.”
Jack looked angry for a moment; then shrugged his shoulders and said, “My name is Jack; and I live nowhere.”
The man let his book fall to his side, and mutely appealed to the old gentleman to witness the treatment he was enduring.
“Come, sir,” be said, “what’s the use in this? We’ll only have to detain you; and that won’t be pleasant for either of us.”
“Is that a threat” said Jack fiercely.
“No, sir, There’s no one threatening you. We’re all gentlemen here. I only do my duty, as you understand, sir — none better. What is your name, sir?”
“My name is Jack. I tell you. Mr Owen Jack.”
“Oh! I didn’t take it rightly at first. Now your address, sir, please.”
“I have none. Did you never hear of a man without any home? If the place where 1 slept last night, and where my property is, will do you, you can put care of Mr Charles Sutherland, Beulah, Windsor. Here’s a card for you.”
“I know Mr