Speaker 1: The signal man by Charles Dickens Hollo below there when
he heard a voice thus calling to him. He was
standing at the door of his box with a flag
in his hand, furled round its short pole. One would
have thought, considering the nature of the ground, that he
could not have doubted from what quarter the voice came.
But instead of looking up to where I stood at
the top of the steep cutting nearly over his head,
he turned himself about and looked down the line. There
was something remarkable in his manner of doing so, though
I could not have said, for the life of me what,
but I know it was remarkable enough to attract my notice,
even though his figure was foreshortened and shadowed down in
the deep trench, and mine was high above him, so
steeped in the glow of an angry sunset, that I
had shaded my eyes with my hand before I saw
him at all hullo below. From looking down the line,
he turned himself up again, and, raising his eyes, saw
my figure high above him. Is there any path by
which I can come down and speak to you? He
looked up at me without replying, and I looked down
at him without pressing him too soon with a repetition
of my idle question. Just then there came a vague
vibration in the earth and air, quickly changing into a
violent pulsation and an oncoming rush that caused me to
start back, as though it had forced to draw me down.
When such vapor as rose to my height from this
rapid train had passed me and was skimming away over
the landscape, I looked down again and saw him refurling
the flag he had shown while the train went by.
I repeated my inquiry. After a pause during which he
seemed to regard me with fixed attention, he motioned with
his rolled up flag towards a point on my level,
some two or three hundred yards distant. I called down
to him, all right, and made for that point. There
By dint of looking closely upuput me, I found a
rough zigzag descending path notched out which I followed. The
cutting was extremely deep and unusually precipitate. It was made
through a clammy stone that became oozier and wet as
I went down. For these reasons, I found the way
long enough to give me time to recall a singular
air of reluctance or compulsion, with which he had pointed
out the path. When I came down low enough upon
the zigzag descent to see him again, I saw that
he was standing between the rails on the way by
which the train had lately passed, in in attitude as
if he were waiting for me to appear. He had
his left hand at his chin, and that left elbow
rested on his right hand crossed over his breast. His
attitude was one of such expectation and watchfulness that I
stopped a moment wondering at it. I resumed my downward way, and,
stepping out upon the level of the railroad, and drawing
near to him, saw that he was a dark, sallow man,
with a dark beard and rather heavy eyebrows. His host
was in as solitary and as dismal a place as ever.
I saw on either side a dripping, wet wall of
jagged stone, excluding all view but a strip of sky.
The perspective one way only a crooked prolongation of this
great dungeon, the shorter perspective in the other direction, terminating
in a gloomy red light, and the gloomier entrance to
a black tunnel, in whose massive architecture there was a barbarous, depressing,
and forbidding air. So little sunlight ever found its way
to this spot that it had an earthy, deadly smell,
and so much cold wind rushed through it that it
struck chill to me, as if I had left the
natural world before he stirred. I was near enough to
him to have touched him, not even then, removing his
eyes from mine, he stepped back one step and lifted
his hand. This was a lonesome post to occupy, I said,
and it had riveted my attention. When I looked down
from up yonder. A visitor was a rarity, I should suppose,
not an unwelcome rarity, I hoped in me. He merely
saw a man who had been shut up within narrow
limits all his life, and who, being at last set free,
had a newly awakened interest in these great works. To
such purpose, I spoke to him, But I am far
from sure of the terms I used, for besides that,
I am not happy in opening any conversation. There was
something in the man that daunted me. He directed a
most curious look towards the red light near the tunnel's mouth,
and looked all about it as if something were missing.
From it, and then looked at me. That light was
part of his charge? Was it not, he answered, in
a low voice, don't you know it is? The monstrous
thought came into my mind as I perused the fixed
eyes and the saturnine face, that this was a spirit,
not a man. I've speculated since whether there may have
been infection in his mind. In my turn, I stepped back,
But in making the action I detected in his eyes
some latent fear of me. This put the monstrous thought
to flight. You look at me, I said, forcing a smile,
as if you had a dread of me. I was doubtful,
he returned. Whether I had seen you before? Where? He
pointed to the red light he had looked at there,
I said, intently, watchful of me, he replied, but without sound, Yes,
my good fellow, What should I do there? However, be
that as it may, I never was there? You may
swear I think I may, he rejoined. Yes, I am
sure I may. His manner cleared like my own, he
replied to my remarks with readiness and in well chosen words.
Had he much to do there? Yes, that was to
say he had enough responsibility to bear, But exactness and
watchfulness were what was required in him, and of actual work,
manual labor, he had next to none. To change that signal,
to trim those lights, and to turn this iron handle
now and then was all he had to do under
that head. Regarding those many long and lonely hours of
which I seemed to make so much, he would only
say that the routine of his life had shaped itself
into that form, and he had grown used to it.
He had taught himself a language down here, if only
to know it by sight, and to have formed his
own crude ideas of its pronunciation, could be called learning it.
He had also worked at fractions and decimals, and tried
a little algebra, but he was, and had been, as
a boy, a poor hand at figures. Was it necessary
for him, when on duty, always to remain in that
channel of damp air? And could he never rise into
the sunshine from between those high stone walls? Why that
depended upon times and circumstances. Under some conditions there would
be less upon the line than under others, and the
same good as to certain hours of the day and
night in bright weather, he did choose occasions for getting
a little above these lower shadows but being at all
times liable to be called by his electric bell, and
at such times listening for it with redoubled anxiety, the
relief was less than I would suppose. He took me
into his box, where there was a fire, a desk
for an official book in which he had to make
certain entries, a telegraphic instrument with its dial face and needles,
and the little bell of which he had spoken on
my trusting that he would excuse the remark that he
had been well educated, and I hoped, I might say,
without offense, perhaps educated above that station, he observed that
instances of slight incongruity in such wise would rarely be
found wanting among large bodies of men. That he had
heard it was so in workhouses, in the police force,
even in that last desperate resource, the army, and that
he knew it was so more or less in any
great railway staff. He had been when young, if I
could believe it. Sitting in that hut, he scarcely could
a student of natural philosophy, and had attended lectures, but
he had run wild, misused his opportunities, gone down, and
never risen again. He had no complaint to offer about that.
He had made his bed, and he lay upon it.
It was far too late to make another. All that
I have here condensed, he said, in a quiet manner,
with his grave, dark regards divided between me and the fire.
He threw in the word sir from time to time,
and especially when he referred to his youth, as though
to request me to understand that he claimed to be
nothing but what I found him. He was several times
interrupted by the little bell, and had to read off
messages and send replies. Once he had to stand without
the door and display a flag as a train passed,
and make some verbal communication to the driver. In the
discharge of his duejees I observed him to be remarkably
exact and vigilant, breaking off his discourse at a syllable
and remaining silent until what he had to do was done.
In a word, I would have set this man down
as one of the safest of men to be employed
in that capacity, but for the circumstances that while he
was speaking to me he twice broke off with a
fallen color, turned his face toward the little bell when
it did not ring, opened the door of the hut,
which was kept shut to exclude the unhealthy damp and
looked out towards the red light near the mouth of
the tunnel. On both of those occasions he came back
to the fire with the inexplicable air upon him which
I had remarked without being able to define when we
were so far asunder, said I, when I rose to
leave him. You almost make me think that I have
met with a contented man. I am afraid I must
acknowledge that I said it to lead him on. I
believe I used to be so. He rejoined in the
low voice in which he had first spoken. But I
am troubled, sir, I am troubled. He would have recalled
the words if he could. He had said them, however,
and I took them up quickly with what what is
your trouble? It is very difficult to impart, sir. It
is very very difficult to speak of. If ever you
make me another visit, I will try to tell you.
But I expressly intend to make you another visit. Say
when shall it be? I go off early in the morning,
and I shall be on again until ten tomorrow night, Sir,
I will come at eleven. He thanked me and went
out at the door with me I'll show you my
white light, sir, he said, in his peculiar low voice,
till you have found the way up. When you have
found it, don't call out. And when you are at
the top, don't call out. His manner seemed to make
the place strike colder to me. But I said no
more then, very well, And when you come down to
morrow night, don't call out. Let me ask you a
parting question. What made you cry hallo below there to night?
Heaven knows? Said I. I cried something to that effect.
Not to that effect, sir, Those were the very words.
I know them well, admit, those were the very words
I said them, no doubt, because I saw you below
for no other reason. What other reason could I possibly have?
You had no feeling that they would convey to you
in any supernatural way. No. He wished me good night
and held up his light. I walked by the side
of the down line of rails with a very disagreeable
sensation of a train coming behind me, until I found
the path. It was easier to mount than to descend,
and I got back to my inn without any adventure.
Punctual to my appointment. I placed my foot on the
first notch of the zigzag. Next night, as the distant
clocks were striking eleven, he was waiting for me at
the bottom with his white light on. I have not
called out, I said, when we came close together. May
I speak now by all means, sir? Good night then,
and here's my hand, good night, sir, and here's mine.
With that, we walked side by side to his box,
entered it, closed the door, and sat down by the fire.
I have made up my mind, sir, he began bending
forward as soon as we were seated, and speaking in
a tone but a little above a whisper, that you
shall not have to ask me twice? What troubles me?
I took you for some one else yesterday evening. That
troubles me. That mistake. No, that's some one else. Who
is it? I don't know, Like me, I don't know.
I never saw the face. The left eye across the face,
and the right arm is waved violently waved this way.
I followed his action with my eyes, and it was
the action of an arm gesticulating with the utmost passionate
and vehemence for God's sake, clear the way one moonlight night,
said the man, I was sitting here when I heard
a voice cry, hallo below there. I started up, looked
from that door and saw this some one else standing
by the red light near the tunnel, waving as I
just now showed you. The voice seemed hoarse with shouting,
and he cried, look out, look out, and then again
hallo below there, look out. I caught up my lamp,
turned it on red, and ran towards the figure, calling
what's wrong? What has happened? Where it stood just outside
the blackness of the tunnel. I advanced so close upon
it that I wondered at its keep, being the sleeve
across its eyes. I ran right up at it and
had my hand stretched out to pull the sleeve away.
When it was gone into the tunnel, said I no.
I ran on into the tunnel five hundred yards. I
stopped and held my lamp above my head, and saw
the figures of the measured distance, and saw the wet
stains stealing down the walls and trickling through the arch.
I ran out again, faster than I had run in,
for I had a mortal abhorrence of the place upon me.
And I looked all round the red light with my
own red light, and I went up the iron ladder
to the gallery atop of it, and I came down
again and ran back here. I telegraphed both ways an
alarm has been given, Is anything wrong? The answer came
back both ways all well. Resisting the slow touch of
a frozen finger tracing out my spine. I showed him
how that this figure it must be a deception of
his sense of sight, and how that figures originating in
disease of the delicate nerves that minister to the functions
of the eye, were known to have often troubled patients,
some of whom had become conscious of the nature of
their affliction, and had even proved it by experiments upon themselves.
As to an imaginary cry, said, I do but listen
for a moment to the wind in this unnatural valley,
while we speak so low, and to the wild harp
it makes of the telegraph wires. That was all very well.
He returned after we had sat listening for a while,
and he ought to know something of the wind and
the wires, he who so often passed long winter nights
there alone and watching. But he would beg to remark
that he had not finished. I asked his pardon, and
he slowly added these words, touching my arm. Within six
hours after the appearance, the memorable accident on this line happened,
and within ten hours the dead and wounded were brought
along the tunnel over the spot where the figure had stood.
A disagreeable shudder crept over me. But I did my
best against it. It was not to be denied. I
rejoined that this was a remarkable coincidence, calculated deeply to
impress his mind. But it was unquestionable that remarkable coincidences
did continually occur, and they must be taken into account
in dealing with such a subject. Though to be sure,
I must admit, I added, for I thought I saw
that he was going to bring the objection to bear
upon me. Men of common sense did not allow much
for coincidence in making the ordinary calculations of life. He
again begged to remark that he had not finished. I
again begged his pardon for being betrayed into interruptions. This
he said, again, laying his hand upon my arm and
glancing over his shoulder with hollow eyes, was just a
year ago. Six or seven months passed, and I had
recovered from the surprise and shock when one morning, as
the day was breaking. I standing at the door, looked
towards the red light and saw the specter again. He
stopped with a fixed look at me. Did it cry out, no,
it was silent. Did it wave its arm no. It
leaned against the shaft of the light with both hands
before the face like this once more. I followed his
actions with my eyes. It was an action of mourning.
I have seen such an attitude on stone figures, on tombs.
Did you go up to it? I came in and
sat down, partly to collect my thoughts, partly because it
had turned me faint. When I went to the door again,
daylight was above me and the ghost was gone. But
nothing followed. Nothing came of this. He touched me on
the arm with his forefinger twice or thrice, giving a
ghastly not each time. That very day, as a train
came out of the tunnel, I noticed at a carriage
window on my side what looked like a confusion of
hands and heads, and something waved. I sow it just
in time to signal the driver stop. He shut off
and put his brake on, but the train drifted past
here a hundred and fifty yards or more. I ran
after it, and as I went along heard terrible screams
and cries. A beautiful young lady had died instantaneously in
one of the compartments, and was brought in here and
laid down on this floor between us. Involuntarily, I pushed
my chair back as I looked from the boards at
which he had pointed to himself. True, sir, True, precisely
as it happened, So I tell it you. I could
think of nothing to say to any purpose, and my
mouth was very dry. The wind and the wires took
up the story with a long, lamenting wail, he resumed, Now, sir,
mark this and judge how my mind is troubled. The
specter came back a week ago. Ever since, it has
been there now and again by fits and starts at
the light, at the danger light. What does it seemed
to do? He repeated, if possible, with increased passion and vehemence,
that former gesticulation of for God's sake, clear the way.
Then he went on, I have no peace or rest
for it. It calls to me for many minutes together
in an agonized manner. Below there, look out, look out,
It stands waving to me. It rings my little bell
I caught at that. Did it ring your bell yesterday
evening when I was here and you went to the
door twice? Why? See, said I, How your imagination misleads you.
My eyes were on the bell, and my ears were
open to the and if I am a living man,
it did not ring at those times. No, not at
any other time, except when it was rung in the
natural course of physical things by the station communicating with you,
He shook his head. I have never made a mistake
as to that yet, sir, I have never confused the
specter's ring with the man's. The ghost's ring is a
strange vibration in the bell that it derives from nothing else.
And I have not asserted that the bell stirs to
the eye. I don't wonder that you failed to hear it.
But I heard it, and did the specter seem to
be there? When you looked out? It was there both times,
he repeated, firmly, both times. Will you come to the
door with me and look for it? Now? He bit
his under lip, as though he were somewhat unwilling, but arose.
I opened the door and stood on the step. While
he stood in the doorway, there was the danger light
there was the dismal mouth of the tunnel. There were
the high wet stone walls of the cutting. There were
the stars above them. Do you see it? I asked him,
taking particular note of his face. His eyes were prominent
and strained, but not very much more so, perhaps than
my own had been when I had directed them earnestly
towards the same spot. No, he answered, it is not there. Agreed,
said I. We went in again, shut the door, and
resumed our seats. I was thinking how best to improve
this advantage, if it might be called one, when he
took up the conversation in such a matter of coarse way,
so assuming that there could be no serious question of
fact between us, that I felt myself placed in the
weakest of positions. By this time. You will fully understand, sir,
He said that what troubles me so dreadfully is the
question what does the specter mean? I was not sure.
I told him that I did fully understand. What is
its warning against? He said, ruminating with his eyes on
the fire, and only by times turning them on me.
What is the danger? Where is the danger? There is
danger overhanging somewhere on the line, some dreadful calamity will happen.
It is not to be doubted this third time, after
what has gone before. But surely this is a cruel
haunting of me. What can I do? He pulled out
his handkerchief and wiped the drops from his heated forehead.
If I telegraphed danger on either side of me, or
on both, I can give no reason for it. He
went on, wiping the palms of his hands. I should
get into trouble and do no good. They would think
I was mad. This is the way it would work.
Message danger, take care? Answer where message don't know, But
for God's sake, take care. They would displace me. What
else could they do? His pain of mind was most
pitiable to see. It was the mental torture of a
conscientious man, or pressed beyond endurance by an unintelligible responsibility
involving life when it first stood under the danger light.
He went on, putting his dark hair back from his
head and drawing his hands outward, across and across his temples,
in an extremity of feverish distress. Why not tell me
where that accident was to happen? If it must happen,
why not tell me how it could? Be averted. If
it could have been averted when on its second coming
it hid its face, why not tell me instead, she
is going to die? Let them keep her at home.
If it came on those two occasions only to show
me that its warm were true, and so to prepare
me for the third, why not warn me plainly now?
And I, Lord help me a mere poor signal man
on this solitary station, why not go to somebody with
credit to be believed and power to act? When I
saw him in this state, I saw that for the
poor man's sake as well as for the public safety,
what I had to do for the time was to
compose his mind. Therefore, setting aside all question of reality
or unreality between us, I represented to him that whoever
thoroughly discharged his duty must do well, and that at
least it was his comfort that he understood his duty,
though he did not understand these confounding appearances. In this
effort I succeeded far better than in the attempt to
reason him out of his conviction. He became calm. The
occupations incidental to his post. As the night advanced began
to make larger demands on his attention, and I left
him at too in the morning. I had offered to
stay through the night, but he would not hear of it.
That I more than once looked back at the red
light as I ascended the pathway, that I did not
like the red light, and that I should have slept
but poorly if my bed had been under it. I
see no reason to conceal, nor did I like the
two sequences of the accident and the dead girl. I
see no reason to conceal that either. But what read
most in my thoughts was the consideration how ought I
to act? Having become the recipient of this disclosure? I
had proved the man to be intelligent, vigilant, painstaking and exact,
But how long might he remain so? In his state
of mind? Though in a subordinate position, still he held
a most important trust, And would I, for instance, like
to stake my own life on the chances of his
continuing to execute it with precision? Unable to overcome a
feeling that there would be something treacherous in my communicating
what he had told me to his superiors in the
company without first being plain with himself and proposing a
middle course to him, I ultimately resolved to offer to
accompany him, otherwise keeping his secret for the present to
the wisest medical practitioner we could hear of in those parts,
and to take his opinion. A change of time and
his duty would not come round next night, he had
apprised me, and he would be off an hour or
two after sunrise, and on again soon after sunset. I
had appointed to return accordingly. Next evening was a lovely evening,
and I walked out early to enjoy it. The sun
was not yet quite down when I traversed the field
path near the top of the deep cutting. I would
extend my walk for an hour, I said to myself.
Half an hour on and half an hour back, and
it would then be time to go to my signal
man's box. Before pursuing my stroll, I stepped to the
brink and mechanically looked down from the point from which
I had first seen him. I cannot describe the thrill
that seized upon me when close at the mouth of
the tunnel I saw the appearance of a man with
his left sleeve across his eyes, passionately waving his right arm.
The nameless horror that oppressed me pasted in a moment,
for in a moment I saw that this appearance of
a man was a man indeed, and that there was
a little group of other men standing at a short
distance to whom he seemed to be rehearsing the gesture
he made. The dangerlike was not yet lighted against its shaft,
A little low hut entirely new to me had been
made of some wooden supports in tarp paulin it looked
no bigger than a bed. With an irresistible sense that
something was wrong, with a flashing self reproachful fear that
fatal mischief had come of my leaving the man there
and causing no one to be sent to overlook or
correct what he did. I descended the notched path with
all the speed I could make. What is the matter?
I asked? The man single man killed this morning, sir,
Not the man belonging to that box, Yes, sir, not
the man I know. You will recognize him, sir, if
you knew him, said the man who spoke for the others, solemnly,
uncovering his own head and raising an end of the
top pollen for his face is quite composed. Oh, how
did this happen? How did this happen? I asked, turning
from one to another. As the hut closed in again,
he was cut down by an injune. Sir, no man
in England know his work better, But somehow he was
not clear of the outer rail. It was just a
broad day. He had struck the light and had the
lamp in his hand. As the injune came out of
the tunnel. His back was the water and she cut
him down. That man drove her and was showing how
it happened. Show the gentleman Tom, the man who wore
a rough dark dress, stepped back to his former place
at the mouth of the tunnel, coming round the curve
in the tunnel, Sir, he said, I saw him at
the end, like as if I saw him down a
perspective glass. There was no time to chick speed, and
though he knew him to be very careful, as he
didn't seem to take eid of the whistle or he
shut it off when we were running down upon him
and called to him as loud as I could call.
What did you say? Oi said, below there, look out,
look out, for God's sake, clear the way I started. Ah,
it was a dreadful time, Sir. Oi never left off
calling to him. HY put this arm before my oys
not to see, and I waved this arm to the last.
But it was no use, without prolonging the narrative to
dwell on any one of its curious circumstances, more than
on any other. I may, in closing it, point out
the coincidence that the warning of the engine driver included
not only the words which the unfortunate signal man had
repeated to me as haunting him, but also the words
which I, myself not he had attached, and that only
in my own mind, to the gesticulation he had imitated.
And of the signalman