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The roof of the shed in which they stood had been made unusually high in order to contain them. "Well, I s'pose the big 'ammer that Bob says is as 'eavy as five carts of coals must be 'ereabouts?" observed Mrs Marrot looking round. "Yes, there it is," said Will, pointing in front of him. "W'ere? I don't see no 'ammer."
Thus much John Marrot observed when he saw a puff of white steam on the horizon far ahead of him. To reverse the engine and turn full steam on was the work of two seconds.
I never 'ear'd him do it except once before, when he was very low with fever, an' thought himself a-dyin'." "But 'e ain't agoin' to die this time," returned the kindly porter; "so cheer up, Missis. Good-night." Mrs Marrot returned to the room where her husband lay, evidently suffering severe pain, for he was very pale and his lips were compressed.
His wife did not reply, but Gertie's sweet little voice was heard saying faintly "I think mother is dead. Oh, take us out, dear father, take us out, quick!" Again John Marrot bowed himself to the task, and exerting his colossal strength to the utmost, continued to tear up and cast aside the broken planks and beams.
It seemed to Mrs Marrot now as if her capacity for surprise had reached its limit; but she little knew the wealth of capacity for creating surprise that lay in these amazing "works" of the Grand National Trunk Railway. The next place she was ushered into was a vast apartment where iron in every shape, size, and form was being planed and turned and cut.
John Marrot with his lieutenant, Garvie, moved to the front on his iron horse, looking as calm and sedate in his conscious power as his horse looked heavy and unyielding in its stolidity. Never did two creatures more thoroughly belie themselves by their looks. The latent power of the iron horse could have shot it forth like an arrow from a bow, or have blown the whole station to atoms.
Mrs Marrot, too, maintains the monotony of her snore. Round the curve it comes at last, hammer and tongs, thundering like Olympus, and yelling like an iron fiend. The earthquake is "on!" The embankment shudders; the house quivers; the doors, windows, cups, saucers, and pans rattle.
We once had the good fortune to ride on the engine of the "Flying Dutchman," and on that occasion had resolved to converse with the driver, and tried it. As well might we have tried to converse amid the rattling of ten thousand tin kettles! John Marrot put his mouth to our ear and roared. We heard him faintly.
Blow after blow was given by this engine, and as each blow fell the stalwart men heaved on the iron handles and turned the bar this way and that way, until it was pounded nearly square. By this time Mrs Marrot had recovered so far as to separate her fingers a little, and venture to peep from behind that protecting screen.
In peculiar circumstances men are bound to break through all rules and regulations, and act in a peculiar way. Without a moment's hesitation he ran to John Marrot and said in an earnest hurried voice "Give chase, John! cross over to the up-line, but don't go too far." "All right, sir," said John, laying his hand on the regulator.
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