of its passage beat my hair about my face and tore at my garments.

Until this moment I had not thought of you, or even seemed conscious
of your presence in the train. Holding tightly on to the rail by
the carriage door, I began to creep along the footboard towards the
engine, hoping to find a chance of dropping safely down on the line.
Hand over hand I passed along in this way from one carriage to another;
and as I did so I saw by the light within each carriage that the
passengers had no idea of the fate upon which they were being hurried.
At length, in one of the compartments, I saw you. "Come out!" I cried;
"come out! Save yourself! In another minute we shall be dashed
to pieces!"

You rose instantly, wrenched open the door, and stood beside me
outside on the footboard. The rapidity at which we were going was
now more fearful than ever. The train rocked as it fled onwards.
The wind shrieked as we were carried through it. "Leap down," I
cried to you; "save yourself! It is certain death to stay here.
Before us is an abyss; and there is no one on the engine!"

At this you turned your face full upon me with a look of intense
earnestness, and said, "No, we will not leap down. We will stop
the train."

With these words you left me, and crept along the foot-board towards
the front of the train. Full of half angry anxiety at what seemed
to me a Quixotic act, I followed. In one of the carriages we
passed I saw my mother and eldest brother, unconscious as the rest.
Presently we reached the last carriage, and saw by the lurid light
of the furnace that the voice had spoken truly, and that there was