Raped on the Railway

AN UNDESERVED PUNISHMENT

The train had hardly come to a standstill, before the guard had jumped out of his van, and was running down the platform. “Ten minutes here,” he cried.

When he arrived at the compartment in which Brandon and Mrs. Sinclair were seated, he opened the door quickly and took a glance round.

“Ten minutes for refreshment, sir,” he said addressing Brandon.

Mrs. Sinclair rose from her seat, walked to the door, and the guard helped her out. She was still very sore from the severe doing she had had, and the guard, who guessed well enough the reason of her tottering walk, watched her out of the corner of his eye. He slightly shrugged his shoulders, and passed on to the next compartment.

When he arrived at the last compartment, he opened the door and saw four gentlemen sitting there, one in each corner.

“You have ten minutes here, gentlemen,” he said, “if you like to get out.”

“Oh, we're all right,” growled a giant who was sitting in the corner next the door. “We've got all we want except a bedfellow — the Company ought to provide nice girls for the use of first-class passengers.” The guard laughed.

“There's a gentleman in the last compartment found one for himself,” he said. “I should say she's had a rare good poking, if one may judge by the look of her.”

“What sort of a tart is she?” asked a voice from the distant corner.

“Oh, you'll see her come out of the ladies' waiting-room in a minute,” the guard answered carelessly. “I expect she's gone to get a wash, and I reckon she wants it,” and he walked away.

A minute or two later, Mrs. Sinclair appeared on the platform, and walked towards the carriage door which Brandon immediately opened for her.

“By Jove!” said the giant, and gave a low whistle.

“What's the matter, old man?” asked one of his companions.

“Why it's my brother Ted's wife,” said the giant. “I didn't think she was likely to play the whore, but all women are alike. Let's change carriages boys; she shan't have another opportunity to get rogered before she reaches Glasgow, if I can help it; come along you fellows;” and he picked up his hand-bag, and a long roll in which an umbrella and two or three walking-sticks were packed up with a railway rug, and hastily descended.

The others grumbled a good deal, but they descended, and followed the giant, who stepped into the compartment in which Brandon and Mrs. Sinclair were sitting, and was quickly followed by the others.

Brandon resigned himself to this incursion. On thinking the matter over he had come to the conclusion that it was more than improbable that Mrs. Sinclair would invite him, or even permit, him to roger her a second time, and the idea of raping a woman twice in the same night was, of course, out of the question. He was not therefore much annoyed at seeing the carriage invaded by four men, indeed he thought it would give him an opportunity for a conversation with the lady.

Mrs. Sinclair for her part had snuggled down into the corner, and with a plaid over her face, pretended to be asleep, or to be trying to go to sleep.

In another minute the guard came along and shut the doors. He looked rather surprised to see that the four men had changed their quarters, but, after all, they were free to do so if they chose, and it was no concern of his, so he sounded his whistle, and the train moved slowly out of the station.

The four men were seated together at one end of the carriage, and as soon as the train quickened its speed they bent forward, put their heads close together, and began to whisper. The big man, who appeared to be the leader, glanced several times at the lady, and once or twice at Brandon. At last they seemed to have come to some conclusion to which they all agreed, and after a great deal of acquiescive nodding of their heads, they resumed their upright position, three of them keeping their eyes fixed on the leader, who after a short pause, said in a loud voice:

“Have I not the pleasure of addressing Mrs. Edward Sinclair?”

The lady started, and removing the shawl that was over her face, looked at the speaker.

“Oh, how do you do!” she replied. “I had no idea that my brother-in-law was in the train.

“ I'm all right,” replied the big man with a singular accent on the first word. “How is Ted, and why is he not with you?”

“His health is not very good,” replied the lady, “so that I was obliged to come to town by myself.”

“But you are not going back by yourself,” said the big man jovially, “this is your brother I suppose,” and he looked at Brandon.

The painter lowered his eyes, and the lady blushed scarlet.

“No!” she stammered, “this gentleman is a stranger to me.”

“Oh, indeed,” said the giant in a singular tone of voice.

He made a few more commonplace remarks, and then the conversation died out; the lady once more settled herself in her corner.

The four men again put their heads together, and held a whispered colloquy. Brandon noticed that they several times glanced at him, and he heard occasional fragments of the conversation which puzzled him, such, as “No earthly doubt about it.”

“Secure him first.”

“A strap or a stick, or both?”

“She shall get it hot;” but he eventually closed his eyes and went fast asleep.

He woke up with a violent start from a nightmare, in which he had dreamed that a horrible monster, half snake, half dragon, had seized him in its coils, and found himself firmly gripped in the giant's huge hands. Even in a fair struggle, Brandon, though a fairly strong man, would have been no match for the Herculean Scot, but taken unawares as he was, he could not make a struggle, and almost before he knew what had occurred, his arms had been forced backwards, and a thick oak stick passed under his two elbows. His arms and legs were further secured by a couple of straps, and he was quite helpless.

“We don't intend to hurt you,” said the giant, “and all you have to do is to keep quiet. Now then, Sinclair, wake up!” he continued in a loud voice. “I have a question or two to put to you, and I hope you will answer them.

The lady, who had really been fast asleep, started and looked round her in a dazed sort of way.

“What is the matter?” she asked.

“Oh, perhaps there is a good deal the matter,” replied the big man with a grin, “but what I want to know first and foremost is whether this man here has poked you in the train?”

“Sir,” cried Mrs. Sinclair, “how dare you insult me. What right have you to put such an abominable question to me?

“My brother is not here to protect his own honour, so I shall protect it for him,” was the reply. “And let me remark that you have not yet answered the question. Has this man poked you or not? Yes or no?

After attempting one or two more subterfuges. Mrs. Sinclair burst forth with:

“Well, if you wish to know the truth, that man made an indecent assault upon me; in fact raped me.”

“A very likely story,” said the big man with a sneer. “You could have pulled the alarm signal, and stopped the train.”

“But I had fainted,” said the lady.

“Well, at any rate you could have complained when we stopped just now, and given your assailant in charge, instead of which you actually got out of the carriage and then returned — a pretty evident proof that you expected and hoped to get another poke before you reached Glasgow.”

Mrs. Sinclair was silent. She was ashamed to confess the truth, and was, more, pretty sure that she would not be believed if she did. Brandon tried to come to her assistance and assured the big man that she had told the truth.

“Oh, of course you would bear her out in anything she said,” retorted the giant. “If you did commit a rape you deserve to have your balls cut out, but it is evident to me that you poked her, and she let you do it, and that you hoped to poke her again.

“As for you,” he added, turning to Mrs. Sinclair, “it is evident you have betrayed your husband's honour. I do not propose to make a scandal which would end in the Divorce Court, or even to tell my brother anything about it- for he is a poor weak sort of chap, very different from me, and it would perhaps break his heart. But I cannot allow you to play the whore and not suffer for it, and so I and my friends intend to give you a good flogging on your bare bottom-one that you will not forget in a hurry, and that you will feel all the more because it is administered in the presence of your paramour.”

It may be as well to make a short digression here for the purpose of explaining who this man was. He belonged to a self-constituted Society of National Purity, which, as the sequel will show, rather helped to spread unclean practices and create impure thoughts; as for the rest, is the natural tendency of all such associations. These men sometimes took upon themselves to apply the necessary correction, or antidote, and the world at large would be indeed startled did it know of the impure punishments inflicted in its name and for its social purification. Now and again the radical newspapers hinted at their goings on, and occasionally a prosecution would result, but this nefarious gang still exists to rape our girls under pretence of saving their virtue; violate our wives the better to preserve their chastity; and batten on the bodies of the outcast in order to satisfy their own lusts when occasion offered. We give an account of the latest member of this gang brought to justice, the prisoner having been one of the chief acolytes of Mrs. Sinclair's brother-in-law.