The Wolves of Willoughby Chase Read Online Free PDF Page A

indistinguishable shouts from the engine-driver, borne back on the wind.
    ‘Help!’ called Sylvia, leaning from her window. ‘Help, please!’
    She was afraid that her faint cry would not be heard, but at least one member of the group responded to it, for there was an answering halloo, and a small figure detached itself from the rest and darted forward.
    ‘Sylvia! Is it you?’
    Sylvia had hardly time to register more than a pair of bright, dark eyes, rosy cheeks, black locks escaping from under a little fur cap, before with a cry of ‘Mind, now, Miss Bonnie, don’t get so far ahead!’ a man had come up and was busy undoing the fastening of the compartment door.
    ‘Miss Sylvia, is it, miss? We’ll soon have you out of there,’ he called cheerily, wrestling with the frozen and snow-covered handle, while Bonnie somewhat impeded his activities, dancing up and down, blowing kisses to Sylvia, and crying, ‘Poor dear Sylvia, you must be frozen! Never mind, you’ll soon be warm and snug, we have a foot-warmer and ever so many blankets in the carriage. Oh, how I am going to love you! What fun we shall have!’
    Sylvia responded heartily to these overtures, and then exclaimed urgently to the man, who had now undone the door, ‘There is a gentleman here in need of assistance. I greatly fear that he has been stunned by his suitcase. Pray, pray, can you help him?’
    ‘Let’s have a look at him, then, miss,’ the man said. ‘You pop out with Miss Bonnie and let James take you back to the carriage. That will be safest for you.’
    But Bonnie exclaimed, all interest, ‘A man hurt? Oh , the poor fellow! We must help him, Solly. We had better take him home.’
    The other members of the group had come up by now, and there was clamour and discussion.
    ‘What’s to be done? Can’t leave the poor gentleman in the train like that, ’tis another two hours to Blastburn and like as not he’d freeze to death.’
    ‘Well, whatever you do,’ said a whiskered man in a flat cap who appeared to be the station-master, ‘do it quick, or the wolves’ll settle the matter. Hark, I hear them now! We’ve not a moment to spare.’ And an anxious toot from the engine-driver’s whistle seemed to indicate that he was likewise of this opinion.
    ‘Take him out, then,’ cried Bonnie, ‘put him in the carriage! I am sure my father would wish it.’ And James and Solly agreeing, Mr Grimshaw and his luggage were lifted forth, together with Sylvia’s carpet-bag, the door was slammed, and the guard waved his green lamp. Smoke and sparks puffed back on the wind as the engine heaved itself under way and the train slowly ground forward, the guard nimbly swung himself on board as the rear of the train passed them, and Sylvia, glancing back as she was hurried along the platform by Bonnie’s eager hand, saw its serpent-line of lights disappear winding through the trees. Now the grinding and hissing of the engine was gone, Sylvia could hear the howls of wolves, distinct and frightening, and she understood the haste of the party to be gone.
    She received a confused impression of the small station building, with its fringed canopy and scarlet-painted seats, as she was hustled through, and then they came to the neat little carriage in front of which six black horses were steaming, stamping, and shivering under their rugs, as impatient as the humans to be off.
    ‘Lay him on the seat!’ cried Bonnie. ‘That’s it, James! Now wrap a rug over him, so – is his luggage all there? Capital. Now Sylvia, spring in!’ But poor Sylvia was too exhausted and cold to manage it, and James the footman lifted her carefully up and deposited her on the opposite seat, wrapping her in a beautiful soft blue merino rug and placing her feet upon a foot-warmer. Bonnie snuggled in beside her and cried, ‘Now we can go!’
    And indeed, it was only just in time. As James and Solly swung themselves up and the station staff dashed inside their little edifice, there was a