Shadow in the North

Chapter Twenty-One - The Man at the Station

The day of Frederick's necessary departure arrived, and all three Hales were quiet with the looming sense of loss which would strike again, not three days after Mrs Hale's death. Gone were Frederick's tears, for now that he knew he had to leave, and keep his wits about him (if he were to evade the navy and the likes of Leonards) he was all purpose, and a stubborn male bravado at having allowed himself to have been so thoroughly felled by his mother's death. In contrast, now that Frederick was no longer in the throes on unrestrained grief, Margaret's strength faltered, and she descended into brief fits of sobbing. Mr Hale was simply anxious for his son's departure, and sat watching the clock as the hour grew darker, and the moment of Frederick's slipping from the safe confines of the Crampton house, drew nearer.

'You will go with your brother, will you not, Margaret?' asked Mr Hale, in a pitiful voice. 'I should like to know he is got off safely. I cannot rest easy knowing this Leonards fellow is about.'

'I should like to go with him, Papa, if you will not mind my leaving you.'

'No! no, you must go with him, and see him safely to the train.'

'But it is ten minutes past six, Margaret,' said Frederick, with concern. 'It is very nearly dark. Shall you be alright returning on your own?'

'Oh! I am getting brave; I have been out walking far later.'

'But the station is quite set away from the busy commercial parts,' mused Mr Hale, hesitantly. 'I wonder, Isabel, might you go with them, and see Margaret home?' Isabel looked to brother and sister, who appeared anxious at the loss of privacy in their last precious moments together.

'I could follow just a little behind and wait at the end of the platform for you, perhaps? Then after Frederick is safely on the train, Margaret and I may journey home together?' Margaret smiled gratefully, and Frederick nodded his agreement, satisfying Mr Hale.

Now, as Isabel walked some ten paces or more behind brother and sister, she fretted all the while about the altercation she knew was to come, between the Hales and Leonards, whom she knew - in much the same way as she knew everything else which did not pertain to her - had taken a position as station porter. She could have attempted to suggest a different time of departure, but they were obliged to wait until darkness fell, yet could not leave so late as to prohibit Margaret from accompanying her brother. And of course, Isabel knew not Leonard's hours of work, for her reliable Gaskell had never shared that information with the reader. All she could do was endeavour to linger close to where she thought Leonards may spring from, in a hope that she could detain him from discovering Frederick's presence in Milton.

They reached Outward station, and all was dark and deserted; the train not being due for some twenty or so minutes. Margaret and Frederick made their way down beneath the elevated station platform, onto a cinder path which flanked the carriage-way, and - hidden from the station lamps in the darkness of that pathway - they said their goodbyes, for what both knew, may be the very last time. It was whilst they were speaking - stood up against a stile - that Margaret felt an approaching presence and tensed. Anxious that the dreaded Leonards may happen upon them, she was relieved when the horse she heard approaching, finally drew past them - directly along the stile - only to find that the horseman was none other than Mr Thornton. She bowed her head low - her heart pounding at the realisation that he had seen her brother, but gratified that of all the people local to Milton who it might have been, in was none other than her father's closest friend. Her bow was stiffly returned - a slight frown about the gentleman's face - and he passed on.

'Who was that, Margaret?' asked Frederick, once the ominous shadow of the rider had melted into the darkened night.

'That was Mr Thornton; you saw him before - when he called by for Papa.'