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MUGBY JUNCTION
MUGBY JUNCTION
By Charles Dickens
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MUGBY JUNCTION
CHAPTER IBARBOX
BROTHERS
I
〃Guard！ What place is this？〃
〃Mugby Junction； sir。〃
〃A windy place！〃
〃Yes； it mostly is； sir。〃
〃And looks comfortless indeed！〃
〃Yes； it generally does； sir。〃
〃Is it a rainy night still？〃
〃Pours； sir。〃
〃Open the door。 I'll get out。〃
〃You'll have； sir；〃 said the guard； glistening with drops of wet； and
looking at the tearful face of his watch by the light of his lantern as the
traveller descended； 〃three minutes here。〃
〃More； I think。For I am not going on。〃
〃Thought you had a through ticket； sir？〃
〃So I have； but I shall sacrifice the rest of it。 I want my luggage。〃
〃Please to come to the van and point it out； sir。 Be good enough to
look very sharp； sir。 Not a moment to spare。〃
The guard hurried to the luggage van； and the traveller hurried after
him。 The guard got into it； and the traveller looked into it。
〃Those two large black portmanteaus in the corner where your light
shines。 Those are mine。〃
〃Name upon 'em； sir？〃
〃Barbox Brothers。〃
〃Stand clear； sir； if you please。 One。 Two。 Right！〃
Lamp waved。 Signal lights ahead already changing。 Shriek from
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engine。 Train gone。
〃Mugby Junction！〃 said the traveller； pulling up the woollen muffler
round his throat with both hands。 〃At past three o'clock of a tempestuous
morning！ So！〃 He spoke to himself。 There was no one else to speak
to。 Perhaps； though there had been any one else to speak to； he would
have preferred to speak to himself。 Speaking to himself he spoke to a
man within five years of fifty either way； who had turned grey too soon；
like a neglected fire； a man of pondering habit； brooding carriage of the
head； and suppressed internal voice； a man with many indications on him
of having been much alone。
He stood unnoticed on the dreary platform； except by the rain and by
the wind。 Those two vigilant assailants made a rush at him。 〃Very
well；〃 said he； yielding。 〃It signifies nothing to me to what quarter I turn
my face。〃
Thus； at Mugby Junction； at past three o'clock of a tempestuous
morning； the traveller went where the weather drove him。
Not but what he could make a stand when he was so minded； for；
coming to the end of the roofed shelter （it is of considerable extent at
Mugby Junction）； and looking out upon the dark night； with a yet darker
spirit…wing of storm beating its wild way through it； he faced about； and
held his own as ruggedly in the difficult direction as he had held it in the
easier one。 Thus； with a steady step； the traveller went up and down； up
and down； up and down； seeking nothing and finding it。
A place replete with shadowy shapes； this Mugby Junction in the black
hours of the four…and…twenty。 Mysterious goods trains； covered with
palls and gliding on like vast weird funerals； conveying themselves
guiltily away from the presence of the few lighted lamps； as if their freight
had come to a secret and unlawful end。 Half…miles of coal pursuing in a
Detective manner； following when they lead； stopping when they stop；
backing when they back。 Red…hot embers showering out upon the ground；
down this dark avenue； and down the other； as if torturing fires were being
raked clear； concurrently； shrieks and groans and grinds invading the ear；
as if the tortured were at the height of their suffering。 Iron…barred cages
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full of cattle jangling by midway； the drooping beasts with horns entangled；
eyes frozen with terror； and mouths too： at least they have long icicles
（or what seem so） hanging from their lips。 Unknown languages in the air；
conspiring in red； green； and white characters。 An earthquake；
accompanied with thunder and lightning； going up express to London。
Now； all quiet； all rusty； wind and rain in possession； lamps extinguished；
Mugby Junction dead and indistinct； with its robe drawn over its head； like
Caesar。
Now； too； as the belated traveller plodded up and down； a shadowy
train went by him in the gloom which was no other than the train of a life。
From whatsoever intangible deep cutting or dark tunnel it emerged； here it
came； unsummoned and unannounced； stealing upon him； and passing
away into obscurity。 Here mournfully went by a child who had never had
a childhood or known a parent； inseparable from a youth with a bitter
sense of his namelessness； coupled to a man the enforced business of
whose best years had been distasteful and oppressive； linked to an
ungrateful friend； dragging after him a woman once beloved。 Attendant；
with many a clank and wrench； were lumbering cares； dark meditations；
huge dim disappointments； monotonous years； a long jarring line of the
discords of a solitary and unhappy existence。
〃Yours； sir？〃
The traveller recalled his eyes from the waste into which they had
been staring； and fell back a step or so under the abruptness； and perhaps
the chance appropriateness； of the question。
〃Oh！ My thoughts were not here for the moment。 Yes。 Yes。
Those two portmanteaus are mine。 Are you a Porter？〃
〃On Porter's wages； sir。 But I am Lamps。〃
The traveller looked a little confused。
〃Who did you say you are？〃
〃Lamps； sir；〃 showing an oily cloth in his hand； as farther explanation。
〃Surely； surely。 Is there any hotel or tavern here？〃
〃Not exactly here； sir。 There is a Refreshment Room here； but〃
Lamps； with a mighty serious look； gave his head a warning roll that
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