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Unknown to the passengers both trains had been ru
Only a brief halt was scheduled here, for a few speeches, before the trains went their respective ways. Gus was looking out at the train opposite and at the waving crowd in its windows, when there was a tap on his shoulder so that he turned to face a uniformed trainman.
“If you would come with me, Captain Washington.”
There was an edge of concern to the man’s voice that Gus caught instantly so that he nodded and rose at once, hoping that the others had not heard; but they were too involved in the novelty and the excitement to be very aware. The trainman led the way to the platform and Gus queried him at once.
“Not sure, sir, something about Sir Isambard. I was told to bring you at once.”
They hurried across to the waiting train and there was Iris who took him by the hand and led him down the passage out of earshot of the others.
“It’s Father. He has had another attack. And he asked to see you. The doctor is afraid that… that…” She could not finish and the tears so proudly held back until now burst forth.
Gus touched his handkerchief lightly to her eyes as he said, “Take me to him.”
Sir Isambard was alone in the compartment, except for the ministering physician, and the curtains were drawn. They let themselves in and with a single look at the blanket-wrapped figure Gus knew that the matter was very grave indeed. The great engineer looked smaller now, and much older, as he lay with his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open and gasping for air; his lips had a definite bluish tinge to them. The physician was administering an injection to the flaccid arm and they waited until he had done before speaking.
“Daddy,” said Iris, and could speak no more. His eyes opened slowly and he looked at her for long seconds before speaking.
“Come in… both… come in. Doctor, I am weak… too weak…”
“It is to be expected, sir, you must realize—”
“I realize I need something to sit me up… so I can speak. An injection, you know what I need.”
“Any stimulants at this time would be definitely contraindicated.”
“A fancy way of saying… they will kill me. Well, I’m dying anyway… keep the machine ru
It took the physician but a moment to reach a decision—then he turned to his bag and prepared his medicines. They waited in silence while the injections were made and a touch of color washed through the sick man’s cheeks.
“That is much better,” said he, struggling to sit up.
“A false illusion,” the doctor insisted. “Afterwards—”
“Afterwards the afterwards,” Sir Isambard said with some of his old ma
“Sir—”
“Do not interrupt. The tu
“I could not leave you, Father, nor will I. It is my decision.”
“Nonsense. Marry him quick because you won’t have to worry about caring for me much longer.”
“You won’t—!”
“Yes I will. I had better. Man can only make a fool of himself on his deathbed, or admit he’s been a fool. After that he had better die. Now send that physician fellow in for I need a bit more help.”
It was the mighty will inside that frail body that kept it going, for the attack should have felled him long since. Medicine helped, as medicine does, but it was the strong spirit that buoyed him up. At the Grand Banks Station a stretcher was waiting and he was carried across to the other train while the passengers were rushed in their transfer; no sightseeing this time. Down into the tu
“Please, don’t bother,” said he. “We were all concerned about Sir Isambard. How is he?”
“As good as might be expected, Your Highness,” answered Gus.
“Fine. Captain Washington, if you have a moment my mother would like to speak with you.”
They left together and Iris sat by her father, holding his cold hand in both of hers until Gus returned.
“Well?” Sir Isambard asked, his eyes opening at the sound of his entry.
“A very fine woman indeed. She congratulates us all on this work. Then she mentioned a knighthood—”
“Oh, Gus!”
“—Which I refused, saying that there was something I wished more, something for my country. She understood completely. There has been much talk of independence since the tu
“Oh Gus, darling, then it has happened! What you have always wanted.”
“Should have taken the knighthood, let the damned colonies take care of themselves.”
Sir Isambard looked out of the window and fretted while they kissed, long and passionately, until with a rush and a burst of light the dark tu
“So there,” Sir Isambard said, with some satisfaction, stamping his cane on the floor. “So there! Transatlantic tu
He closed his eyes, smiling, and never opened them again.
ENVOI
Across the verdant Cheshire countryside the churchbells sounded their merry call and anyone hearing them could not but smile at their pleasant sound. The church itself, an ancient graying Norman pile of Bulkeley, close by the ancestral Brassey manor of Bulkeley Old Hall, was so surrounded by hedge and flowers that only its tower was visible from the road. Behind it, bordered by the color and perfume of a carefully tended rose garden, was a small yard and here three friends stood.
“I can never thank you too much,” said Gus Washington.
“Nonsense!” Alec Durell answered. “A distinct pleasure to stand up for you. Never been a best man before, in fact haven’t been in church for donkey’s years. In any case, plenty of perks involved. Bit of extra leave, more credit with my tailor for this morning suit, always needed one, chance to kiss the bride. In fact think I’ll try that again.”
And he did while Iris’s eyes shone and she laughed aloud, a vision in white and lace, happy as only brides can be.
“You are sure that you ca
“Positive. Love to, of course, but duty calls. Signed off the old wombat of the Queen Elizabeth, too much of a milk run, back and forth across the Atlantic, might as well go under it in your tu