At intervals it was necessary to halt entirely,
that the heavy vehicles unloading in front might be moved aside, a
feat which was not accomplished without a deal of swearing and
noise. The vicar put his head out of the window.
'Surely there must be some mistake in the way,' he said with great
concern, drawing in his head again. 'There's not a respectable
conveyance to be seen here except ours. I've heard that there are
strange dens in this part of London, into which people have been
entrapped and murdered--surely there is no conspiracy on the part
of the cabman?'
'Oh no, no. It is all right,' said Mr. Knight, who was as placid
as dewy eve by the side of Elfride.
'But what I argue from,' said the vicar, with a greater emphasis
of uneasiness, 'are plain appearances. This can't be the highway
from London to Plymouth by water, because it is no way at all to
any place. We shall miss our steamer and our train too--that's
what I think.'
'Depend upon it we are right. In fact, here we are.'
'Trimmer's Wharf,' said the cabman, opening the door.
No sooner had they alighted than they perceived a tussle going on
between the hindmost cabman and a crowd of light porters who had
charged him in column, to obtain possession of the bags and boxes,
Mrs. Snewson's hands being seen stretched towards heaven in the
midst of the melee. Knight advanced gallantly, and after a hard
struggle reduced the crowd to two, upon whose shoulders and trucks
the goods vanished away in the direction of the water's edge with
startling rapidity.
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