Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser (best book clubs .TXT) 📕

could be the matter. Hurstwood contemplated her and felt this. He was not disturbed that it should be so. He did not trouble because she was moved sympathetically in the matter. It was one of the qualities in her which pleased him exceedingly. He was only thinking how he should explain. Even this was not the most serious thing in his mind, however. His own deed and present flight were the great shadows which weighed upon him.

“What a fool I was to do that,” he said over and over. “What a mistake!”

In his sober senses, he could scarcely realise that the thing had been done. He could not begin to feel that he was a fugitive from justice. He had often read of such things, and had thought they must be terrible, but now that the thing was upon him, he only sat and looked into the past. The future was a thing which concerned the Canadian line. He wanted to reach that. As for the rest, he surveyed his actions for the evening, and counted them parts of a great mistake.

“Still,” he said, “what could I have done?”

Then he would decide to make the best of it, and would begin to do so by starting the whole inquiry over again. It was a fruitless, harassing round, and left him in a queer mood to deal with the proposition he had in the presence of Carrie.

The train clacked through the yards along the lake front, and ran rather slowly to Twenty-fourth Street. Brakes and signals were visible without. The engine gave short calls with its whistle, and frequently the bell rang. Several brakemen came through, bearing lanterns. They were locking the vestibules and putting the cars in order for a long run.

Presently it began to gain speed, and Carrie saw the silent streets flashing by in rapid succession. The engine also began its whistle-calls of four parts, with which it signalled danger to important crossings.

“Is it very far?” asked Carrie.

“Not so very,” said Hurstwood. He could hardly repress a smile at her simplicity. He wanted to explain and conciliate her, but he also wanted to be well out of Chicago.

In the lapse of another half-hour it became apparent to Carrie that it was quite a run to wherever he was taking her, anyhow.

“Is it in Chicago?” she asked nervously. They were now far beyond the city limits, and the train was scudding across the Indiana line at a great rate.

“No,” he said, “not where we are going.”

There was something in the way he said this which aroused her in an instant.

Her pretty brow began to contract.

“We are going to see Charlie, aren’t we?” she asked.

He felt that the time was up. An explanation might as well come now as later. Therefore, he shook his head in the most gentle negative.

“What?” said Carrie. She was nonplussed at the possibility of the errand being different from what she had thought.

He only looked at her in the most kindly and mollifying way.

“Well, where are you taking me, then?” she asked, her voice showing the quality of fright.

“I’ll tell you, Carrie, if you’ll be quiet. I want you to come along with me to another city.”

“Oh,” said Carrie, her voice rising into a weak cry. “Let me off. I don’t want to go with you.”

She was quite appalled at the man’s audacity. This was something which had never for a moment entered her head. Her one thought now was to get off and away. If only the flying train could be stopped, the terrible trick would be amended.

She arose and tried to push out into the aisle⁠—anywhere. She knew she had to do something. Hurstwood laid a gentle hand on her.

“Sit still, Carrie,” he said. “Sit still. It won’t do you any good to get up here. Listen to me and I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Wait a moment.”

She was pushing at his knees, but he only pulled her back. No one saw this little altercation, for very few persons were in the car, and they were attempting to doze.

“I won’t,” said Carrie, who was, nevertheless, complying against her will. “Let me go,” she said. “How dare you?” and large tears began to gather in her eyes.

Hurstwood was now fully aroused to the immediate difficulty, and ceased to think of his own situation. He must do something with this girl, or she would cause him trouble. He tried the art of persuasion with all his powers aroused.

“Look here now, Carrie,” he said, “you mustn’t act this way. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I don’t want to do anything to make you feel bad.”

“Oh,” sobbed Carrie, “oh, oh⁠—oo⁠—o!”

“There, there,” he said, “you mustn’t cry. Won’t you listen to me? Listen to me a minute, and I’ll tell you why I came to do this thing. I couldn’t help it. I assure you I couldn’t. Won’t you listen?”

Her sobs disturbed him so that he was quite sure she did not hear a word he said.

“Won’t you listen?” he asked.

“No, I won’t,” said Carrie, flashing up. “I want you to take me out of this, or I’ll tell the conductor. I won’t go with you. It’s a shame,” and again sobs of fright cut off her desire for expression.

Hurstwood listened with some astonishment. He felt that she had just cause for feeling as she did, and yet he wished that he could straighten this thing out quickly. Shortly the conductor would come through for the tickets. He wanted no noise, no trouble of any kind. Before everything he must make her quiet.

“You couldn’t get out until the train stops again,” said Hurstwood. “It won’t be very long until we reach another station. You can get out then if you want to. I won’t stop you. All I want you to do is to listen a moment. You’ll let me tell you, won’t you?”

Carrie seemed not to listen. She only turned her head toward the window, where outside all was black. The train was speeding