Down the Rabbit Hole

“The train has wheels, and they run on tracks so there is only one way they can go. These trains can run without a driver if necessary.”


“The Oystermouth Railway!” As he tried to form a mental image of carriage wheels locked into a track to convey a load, the words popped into his mind, making the connection. He spoke aloud without thinking.

“What are you talking about, my lord?” Alice actually put some distance between them as she asked. Did she think he had gone mad?

“Alice, they are constructing a system that functions on rails in Wales, but they do not call it the Underground, they call it the Oystermouth Railway. When it is complete they will use it to transport coal from an area where there are no roads.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Alice said. “Have you, Mr. Arbuckle?”

Arbuckle shook his head. Of course I know a little about the development of railways, but not that particular one.”

“Not many have heard of it. Yet. The only reason I know it,” Weston continued, “is because the estate owns several coal mines that would be serviced by the railway. The trustees are not inclined to maintain the connection because they feel it will cost more than it is worth, and they approached me recently with the suggestion that we sell our interest.” He looked around him with satisfaction. “I think not. There is obviously more of a future for railways. More than just carrying coal away from the mines.”

As the train pulled to a stop and Mr. Arbuckle rose, Weston and Alice followed.

They reversed their route, stepping onto the moving stairs that went up—a much easier proposition than stepping on to go down. One wasn’t likely to fall up the stairs, though he imagined it was possible.

“Mr. Arbuckle, Alice wonders how it is we can breathe so comfortably below ground, and I wonder what fuels these marvels.”

“I really do not know the answer to either question, my lord, but in the early days of train travel it was coal that fueled the engines.”

Weston nodded. “More and more I am committed to the coal mines in Wales, Alice.”

She gave him her attention, and he went on. “They are clearly a fundamental part of the future. And I think it’s significant that the Oystermouth Railway is a project that I am already involved in.”

“It was your uncle’s investment, was it not?”

“Yes, and one that is infinitely more sensible than it seemed. I will not let it go, regardless of what the estate trustees counsel.”





CHAPTER TEN




“Are we not still in Mayfair?” Alice asked as they exited the Underground station into a salubrious evening.

“Yes, miss, we are.”

“Certainly it would be easier to walk. And cost less.”

“Yes, miss, but most people take the Underground much farther than we did. As in your time, only the wealthy can afford to live in Mayfair. I thought a sample of the Underground was all you would need.”

“When did train travel become popular, Mr. Arbuckle?” Weston was piecing together a plan and could barely contain his excitement. But before his companion could answer they were all distracted by a man, or boy, who came racing toward them, bumped through them and, without apology, ran on.

“Stop! Police!” A woman dressed in a uniform followed the same route as the boy, but having been prepared, the three of them stood back and let her through.

Weston stared after her, both puzzled and astonished.

“What was that?” Alice asked, raising her hand to her heart, as if that would still the beating that had to match his.

“Someone who the police think has committed a crime,” Mr. Arbuckle explained.

“But who was that woman chasing him? Had he stolen something from her?”

“No, by her uniform I would say she is an officer, a member of the Met—the Metropolitan Police Force. They, er, work to keep innocent people safe by apprehending those who break the law.”