Duchess? No! Countess? No! Lady of large property—wife of Liverpool merchant? Devil a bit! Missionary woman? No! Tight-rope dancer? No! Stewardess on West Indiaman spending pay? Yes—Hullo! What's that?"
I did not know what it was, but there was a sudden snap and our carriage suddenly slackened speed, and eventually stopped. I put my head out of the window. The coupling had broken, and our carriage and the guard's van had been separated from the rest of the train. The driver knew nothing about it; and there we were, half-way between Rugby and Stafford at 12 p.m. on a very cold April night!
"Good Heavens!" said I, in the very greatest alarm, "the coupling has broken and we are left behind by the train! We shall be smashed by the next down train!"
"Not a bit, you old strange one!" replied she, without even looking out of the window. "Guard at end of train. If we broke off, he broke off too."
The guard had, in point of fact, rushed forward, moving his lantern in the faint hope of being able to attract the attention of the driver, but in vain. So he returned, very excited, but very sulky.
"What in the world are we to do?" asked I.
"Get out of this, you and your old woman, while I run back to Tamworth to telegraph. Come, out you go"
"But where are we to go? It is raining hard, and we shall be soaked through and through."
