The Signalman

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
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Signalman by Charles Dickens, read by Howard Dratch, Hello below

(00:25):
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, throwed 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 on the top of the steep cutting nearly over

(00:47):
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 my life what,
but I know it was remarkable enough to tracked my notice,
even though his figure was foreshortened and shadowed down in
the deep trench, and mine was high above him, so

(01:08):
steeped in the glow of an angry sunset, that I
had shaded my eyes with my hand before I saw
him at all, Hello below. From looking down the line,
he turned himself about 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

(01:31):
at him without pressing him too soon with the 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 the

(01:52):
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,

(02:14):
some two or three hundred yards distant. I called him
all right, and made for that point. There By dint
of looking closely about 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

(02:34):
clammy stone that became oozier and wetter 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

(02:56):
between the rails on the way by which the train
had lately passed, in an 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

(03:17):
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 post,
when it was in as solitary and dismal a place
as ever, I saw on either side a dripping, wet

(03:40):
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

(04:00):
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

(04:22):
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 beyonder. A visitor was a rarity, I should suppose,
not an unwelcome riority, I hoped in me. He merely

(04:47):
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

(05:08):
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 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

(05:30):
saturnine face, that this was a spirit, not a man.
I have 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

(05:52):
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

(06:12):
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

(06:32):
watchfulness was what was required of 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 could only

(06:52):
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

(07:15):
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 between those high stone walls? Why that depended
upon times and circumstances. Under some conditions there would be

(07:37):
less upon the line than under others, and the same
held 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

(08:01):
into his box, where there was a fire, a desk
for an official book in which he had to make
certain injuries, 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 might say, without offense,

(08:21):
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

(08:43):
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

(09:03):
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 words 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

(09:24):
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 duties,
I observed him to be remarkably exact and vigilant, breaking

(09:46):
off his discourse at a syllable and remaining silent until
what he had to do was done. In a word,
I should have set this man down as one of
the safest of men to be employed in that capacity,
but for the circumstance 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,

(10:08):
opened the door of his 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

(10:31):
make me think that I have met with a contented man.
I am afraid I must acknowledge that I set 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

(10:52):
with what what is your trouble? It is very difficult
to impart, sir. It is very very difficult to speak.
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
at ten tomorrow night, sir, I will come at eleven.

(11:14):
He thanked me and went out at the door with me.
I'll show 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 were at the top, don't call out. His manner
seemed to make the place strike colder to me. But
I said, no more than very well. And when you

(11:35):
come down tomorrow night, don't call out. Let me ask
you a parting question. What made you cry hello below
there tonight heaven, No, said, I cried something to that effect.
Not to that effect, sir, Those were the very words.
I know them well, I admit those were the very words.
I said them, no doubt, because I saw you below

(11:56):
for no other reason. What other reason could I possibly
have have you had no feeling that they were conveyed
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

(12:17):
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,

(12:40):
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

(13:02):
shall not have to ask me twice? What troubles me?
I took you for someone else yesterday evening. That troubles me.
That mistake, No, that someone else? Who is it? I
don't know, like me, I don't know. I never saw
the face. The left arm is across the face, and
the right arm is waved violently waved this way. I

(13:25):
followed his action with my eyes, and it was the
action of an arm gesticulating with the utmost passion and
vehemence for God's sake, clear the way one moonlight night,
said the man. I was sitting here when I heard
a wife's cry, Hello, below there. I started up, looked
from that door and saw this someone else standing by

(13:46):
the red light near the tunnel, waving as I just
now showed you. The voice seemed hoarse with shouting, and
it cried, look out, look out, and then again hello
below there, lookout. I caught up my lamp, turned it
on red, and ran towards the figure, recalling what's wrong?
What has happened? Where it stood just outside the blackness
of the tunnel. I advanced so close upon it that

(14:08):
I wondered at its keeping 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

(14:31):
the walls and trickling through the arch. I ran out again,
faster than I had run in, for I had a
mortal abhorrence at 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

(14:52):
given as anything wrong. The answer came back both ways
all well. Resisting the slow touch of frozen finger tracing
out my spine. I showed him how that this figure
must be a deception of his sense of sight, and
how that figure is originating in disease of the delicate
nerves that minister. The functions of the eye were known

(15:15):
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.

(15:38):
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

(16:01):
memorable accident on this line happened, and within ten hours
the dead and wounded were brought along through 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.

(16:23):
But it was unquestionable that remarkable coincidences did continually occur,
and they must be taken into account when 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 coincidences in
making the ordinary calculations of life. He again begged to

(16:46):
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 yellow eyes, was just a year ago. Six or
seven months passed, and I recovered from the surprise and shot.
One morning, as the day was breaking, I standing at

(17:08):
the door, looked toward 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 its face like this
once more. I followed his action with my eyes. It
was an action of mourning. I have seen such an

(17:30):
attitude in 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
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 nod each time.

(17:54):
That very day, as the 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 saw it just in time to signal the driver's stop.
He shut off and put his brake on but the
train drifted past here one hundred and fifty yards or more.

(18:15):
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 to
hear and laid down on this floor between us. Involuntarily,
I pushed my chair back as I looked from the boards,
at which he pointed to himself. True, sir, True, precisely

(18:37):
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

(18:58):
been there now and again by fits and starts at
the light, at the danger light. What does it seem
to do? He repeated, if possible, with increased passion and vehemence,
that former gesticulation of for God's sakes, clear the way.
Then he went on, I have no peace or rest
from it. It calls to me. For many minutes together

(19:20):
in an agonized manner below there, look out, it stands
waving to me. It rings my little bell. I caught it,
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 bell.

(19:40):
And if I am a living man, it did not
ring at those times, no, nor 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 string is a strange vibration

(20:02):
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

(20:23):
his underlip, 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,

(20:45):
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
toward 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

(21:07):
this advantage, if it might be called one, when he
took up the conversation in such matter of course 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

(21:27):
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 over hanging somewhere on this line, some dreadful calamity

(21:48):
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

(22:11):
to 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 what danger 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

(22:34):
a conscientious man oppressed beyond endurance by an unintelligible responsibility
involving life when it first stood under the danger. Lady
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

(22:54):
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's
going to die. Let them keep her at home. If
it came on those two occasions only to show me
that its warnings were true, and so to prepare me
for the third, why not warn me plainly now? And

(23:17):
I Lord help me, a mere poor signalman on this
solitary station, why not go to somebody with credit to
be believed in 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,

(23:37):
setting aside all questions 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

(23:59):
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 two 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

(24:21):
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 ran most in my thoughts was the consideration
how ought I to act having become the recipient of

(24:41):
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

(25:04):
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 a secret for
the present to the wisest medical practitioner we could hear

(25:25):
of in those parts, and to take his opinion. A
change in his time of duty would 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.

(25:46):
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
signalman's box. Before pursuing my stroll, I stepped to the

(26:07):
brink and mechanically looked down from the point from which
I had first seen him. I could not 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

(26:29):
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 danger light was not yet
lighted against its shaft. A little low hut entirely new
to me had been made of some wooden supports in tarpaulin.
It looked no bigger than a bed. With an irresistible

(26:52):
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's the matter?
I asked them, in signalmond killed this morning, sir, Not

(27:13):
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 the end of the tarpaulin
for his face is quite composed. How did this happen?
How did this happen? I asked, turning from one to another.

(27:34):
As the hut closed in again, he was cut down
by an engine. Sir. No man in England knew his
work better, but somehow he was not clear of the
outer rail. It was just at broad day. He had
struck the light and had the lamp in his hand.
As the engine came out of the tunnel. His back
was towards her and she cut him down. That man

(27:56):
drove her and was showing how it happened. Show the
gentleman Tom, the man who wore rough dark dress, stepped
back to his former place at the mouth of the tunnel,
coming round the curve and the tunnel, Sir, he said,
I saw him at the end, like as if I
saw him down a prospected glass. There was no time
to check speed, and I knew him to be very careful,

(28:17):
as he didn't seem to take heat of the whistle.
I shut it off when we were running down upon
him and called him as loud as I could call.
What did you say? I said, below there, look out,
look out, for God's sake, clear the way I started,
ah it was a dreadful time, Sir, I never left
off calling to him. I put this arm before my
eyes not to see, and I waved this arm to

(28:39):
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 signalman
had repeated to me as haunted him, but also the

(29:01):
words which I, myself not he had attached, and that
only in my own mind to the gesticulation he had imitated.
End of story The Signalman by Charles Dickens, read for
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