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About this Episode
Presents tales filled with suspense and intrigue, each episode unraveling mysteries that keep listeners engaged and guessing until the end.
Hosts & Guests
Transcript
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Hello, hello there.
When the signal man heard my voice thus calling to him, he was standing at the door of his box
with a flag in his hand full rounded short pole. One would have thought 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 over the railway line, he turned himself about and looked down the line.
There was something remarkable about the man, but the way he stood, something strange, perhaps
uncanny, but certainly I would have turned such a thought mere imagination. Then I know now what
was remarkable about that man, and even though years have passed, I still see his figure four
shortens and shadowed down in the deep trench. My figure high above him so steeped in the glow of
an angry sunset that I shaded my eyes with my hand before I saw him at all.
Hello, hello. Is there any pass by which I may come down and speak with you?
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I climbed down and approached the man. He stood now with his left hand at his chin,
his right hand across his breast. His post was in a solitary and dismal places ever I saw.
There was an earthy, deadly smell and little sunlight penetrated down to the line and signal box.
The gloomy entrance of the black tunnel yawned. I stopped a few feet in front of the man,
and suddenly he stepped back and raised his right hand. There was something in the man that
haunted me. This is a loansome post to occupy. A visitor I should think must be a rarity, yes?
I looked down from up yonder and felt a need to come down. Signal boxes have always
riddeted my attention. He directed a most curious look towards the red light near the tunnel's
mouth. The light is in your charges, isn't it? Don't you know it is? A monstrous thought came
into my mind. This was a spirit, not a man. I stepped back, but then I'd take it in his eyes,
some latent fear of me. Look at me as if you had a dread of me. I was doubtful whether I'd
seen you before. Where? There. By the light. There? My good fellow, what should I do there?
Well, however be that as it may, I never was there. I may be sure of that. I've always had a
fascination for railways and their workings. If it would not disturb you, may I prevail upon you
to show me over your box? Of course, then. And come this way, sir. Come this way. Thank you.
Come this way, sir, please.
Now you'll labour. I have next to none. I have to trim those lights, turn it iron,
handle now, and then many long dreary hours I have to spend here. So I occupy my time,
working at fractions and equations, problems, you know. Is it necessary if you always remain in
the damp air down here, even in the signal box with a fire glow at it, it is somehow oppressive.
Can you never rise into the sunshine? Well, that depends upon times and circumstances. I see,
under some conditions, there will be less upon the line than under others. In bright weather,
I go up for a change. Certain hours of the day and night, I'm freer than others, but at all times,
I'm liable to be called by my electric bear. Forgive me, but you appear better educated
than your station and life calls for. I mean no offense. When I was younger, I was a student
of natural philosophy. I attended lectures, but it all came to nothing. I ran wild and was sent down.
I've never risen again, but I have made my bed served. Now I'm as liable. It is too late to make
another acceptance of things for what they are. There is something to that. You almost make me
believe that I have met a contented man. I used to be, but I am troubled, sir. I'm troubled.
With what? What is your trouble? It is very difficult to impart. Very, very difficult to speak of.
If you ever make 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 guard at
10 tomorrow night. I'll come at 11. I'll show you my white light that is still found away.
When you have found it, don't call out. And when you are at the top, don't call out.
Very well. Let me ask you a parting question. What made you cry? Hello, below there. Tonight.
Have a note? I cried something to let it hear. No. Not to that effect, sir. Those were the very words.
I know them well. Well, I spoke with us because I saw you bellowed,
wish to attract your attention, or for no other reason. What other reason could I possibly have?
You had no feeling that they were conveyed to you in any supernatural way. No.
Oh. Good night, sir. May I inquire your name?
Mine is William Bendy. Mine is Charles Dickens.
There was something in singing and lip-culeare about the man of this I was sure.
And I could hardly wait the time before I could speak with him again.
That he was well-educated. There was no doubt that he feared something or someone very greatly.
There was no doubt either. There was something tortured about him.
While we talked that first night, he was several times interrupted by the little bell
and had to read off messages and send replies. Once he had to stand and display a flag as a train
past. Once or twice while he was speaking, he turned and watched the bell and his face
drained of all color when it did not ring. President Barack Obama. Virginia, we are counting on you.
Republicans want to steal enough seats in Congress to raid the next election and wield unchecked
power for two more years. But you can stop them by voting yes by April 21st.
Help put our elections back on a level playing field and let voters decide not politicians.
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Good night, sir. My hand. Good night to you, sir. And here's mine.
I have made up my mind, sir, that you should not have to ask me twice what to troubles me.
Please be seated. Oh, thank you. I took you for someone else yesterday night.
That troubles me. That mistake? No. That's 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 left arm is waved, violently waved.
This way, for pity's sake, clear the way. One moonlight night, I was sitting here when I heard
the voice cry. Hello, hello there. Look out. I started up, look from that door and saw this
someone else standing by the red light near the tunnel. Weaving as I just showed you, the voice
seemed horse with shouting and he cried, look out, look out. And then again, hello below there,
look out. I caught up my lamp, turned it on red and ran towards the figure.
Hello, hello there. Hello, hello. What's going on? What has happened? Hello. Hello. Hello.
The figure just stood in the blackness outside the tunnel. I advanced too close upon it that I
wonder very keeping the sleeve before the eyes. I ran up to it and had my hand stretched out to pull
the sleeve away when it was gone. Into the tunnel? No. I ran into the tunnel, 500 yards. I stopped and
held my lamp out of my head and saw the figures of the measure distance and saw the wet stains
stealing down the walls and trickling through the arch. I ran out again, faster than I ran in for,
I had a mortal abhorrence of the place upon me and I looked all around the red light with my own red
light and I went up the iron ladder at top of it and then I came down again and ran back here.
I telegraphed both ways. An alarm has been given. Is anything wrong? An alarm has been
is anything wrong?
All well, all well.
An alarm has been given, is anything wrong?
All well, all well.
An alarm has been given, is anything wrong?
All well, all well, all well.
This figure must have been a deception of your senses.
A deception of your senses of sight,
because such as you describe sometimes
originating the delicate nerves
the minister to the functions of the eye
as to the imaginary voice.
Well, the wind is a...
the wind which sometimes sounds
well in this unnatural valley.
I think that is all very well.
I know about the wind and telegraph wise.
I pass many long nights here alone and watching,
but I beg to remark,
say that I have not finished my story.
I ask a pardon.
Within six hours after the appearance,
the 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.
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Within 10 hours, the dead and wounded
were brought along through the tunnel
over the spot where the figure had stood.
This was just a year ago.
Six or seven months past
and I had recovered from the surprise
and shocked when one morning,
as day was breaking,
I standing at that door,
looked towards the red light
and saw the specter again.
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.
Like an action of moaning,
I've seen in stone figures and tombs
that 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 all around me
and the ghost had gone.
That very day,
as the train came out of the tunnel,
I noticed at a carriage window on my side
a confusion of hands and heads.
I saw it just in time,
the signal of the driver stopped.
He shut off,
and put his brakes on,
but the train drifted past here
a hundred or fifty yards or so.
A beautiful young lady had died instantly
in one of the compartments
and she was brought in here
to the box and laid there
on the floor between us.
True, sir. True.
Precisely as it happened,
so I tell it to you.
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 seem to do?
It's a nightmare.
For a pretty sake clear of a way.
For pretty sake clear of a way.
For pretty sake clear of a way.
For pretty sake clear of a way.
I have no peace or rest from it.
It calls to me.
No matter how loud,
no matter how loud,
look out,
for pretty sake clear of a way.
It calls for many minutes together,
in an agonized way.
It rings my little bell.
I remember.
Did it ring your bell yesterday evening
when I was here and you went to the door?
Twice.
I see how your imagination misleads you.
My eyes were on the bell
and my ears were open to the bell.
And if I am a living man,
it good not ring at those times.
No, nor at any other time,
except in the course of natural physical things
when it was wrung by the station communicating to you.
I have never made a mistake as to that yet, sir.
I have never confused the spectra's ring with a 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 spectra seem to be there when you looked out?
It was there.
Both times, both times.
Will you come to the door and look with me now?
Well...
I saw the danger light
but this move not for the tunnel.
I went stone walls with a cutting
and a star from the sky.
Do you see it?
No, it is not there.
Agreed?
By this time, sir, you will fully understand
that what troubles me greatly
is what does the spectra mean?
I do not know.
What is its warning against?
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?
At this, the poor man pulled out his handkerchief
and wiped the drops from his heated forehead.
I...
I could think of something to say there.
Something to put courage into him.
If I telegraph danger on either side of me or on both,
I can give no reason for it.
I should get into trouble and do no good.
They would think I was mad.
Can you imagine?
This is the way it would work.
Danger! Take care!
What's danger?
Where?
I don't know, but for pity's sake!
Take care!
They would say I'd gone mad and they would displace me.
What else could they do?
His pain of mine was most pitiful to see.
It was the mental torture of a conscientious man,
oppressed beyond endurance,
by our responsibility involving life.
When it first stood under the danger like,
why not tell me how it might be or that it?
Why not tell me where the accident was to happen
if it had to happen?
When on the second coming it hit his head,
why not tell me instead she's going to die?
Tell them to keep her at home.
If it came on those two occasions,
only to show me that it's warnings were true
and so to prepare me for the third,
why not warn me plainly now?
And I, a poor signal man,
on this solitary station,
why not go to somebody with credit
to be believed and power to act?
Bendy, William,
you cannot blame yourself for anything.
You must have become so agitated
whoever so thoroughly discharges his duty as you do,
must do well.
It must need to be comforted to you to know
full well that you understand your duty perfectly.
The fact remains, I know that you do not understand
these confounded appearances,
that you must not take on so.
I will not insult you by trying to reason you out of your belief.
Thank you, sir.
I left him up to a clock that morning.
I'd offered to stay the night,
but he would not hear of it.
As I climbed the path up,
I looked down to the red light.
I, I did not like it.
I knew full well I should not sleep sound
if my bed were under it.
Nor did I like the two sequences of the accident
and the dead girl.
I, I wouldn't lie all to act.
I knew the man to be painstaking, vigilant,
and although in an inferior position,
he held a most important trust.
How long was his mind as it was?
Would he remain to execute this trust
with precision, I wondered?
I resolved to accompany him to the wisest medical man
in those parts and to take his opinion.
Something told me that would be most friturist
to communicate all of the signal men
and told me to his superiors.
It might well cost him his living.
A change in his time of duty would come
round next night hidden for me.
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 set myself half an hour on and half an hour back
and it would then be time to go to my signal men's box.
Before pursuing my struggle,
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.
A nameless horror that oppressed me quickly passed
when close at the mouth of the tunnel,
I saw that this appearance of a man was a man.
There was a little group of men standing further away
and this first one seemed to be
rehearsing the gesture he made,
the gesture the signal that he had described so vividly.
The angel light was not yet lightened.
Against its shaft, a little low heart,
entirely new to me,
had been made of some wooden supports and topple
and it looked no bigger than a bed.
I descended the path
with all the speed I could muster.
Hello?
Hello?
What is the matter?
What has happened?
Signal man.
Killed this morning, sir.
Not...
Not the man belonging to that box.
Yes, sir.
Not the man I knew.
You will recognize him, sir, if you knew him.
Here is the top-line covering
from the small structure I had observed from above.
His face is quite composed.
How?
How did this happen?
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 a broad day.
He struck the light and had the lamp in his hand
and as the engine came out of the tunnel,
his back was towards her and she cut him down.
That man drove her and was showing how it happened.
Show the gentleman, Tom.
Well, come in round the curve in the tunnel, sir.
I saw him at the end,
like as if I saw him down a prospective class.
Well, there was no time to check speed
and I knew him to be very careful.
But as he didn't seem to take heed of the whistle,
I shut it off.
And as we were running down upon him,
I called to him as loud as I could call.
What did you say?
Say, sir?
Why, I said, below there,
look out for pity's sake clear the way.
Below there, look out, look out.
Police station zero-way.
Straight foot times, sir.
Straight foot times, sir.
Straight foot times, sir.
I never left off calling to him, sir.
I put my arm before my eyes,
so it's not to see.
And I weighed this arm right to the last.
But it was no use.
And I weighed this arm right to the last.
But it was no use.
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The program is adapted for broadcasting
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