no one on the engine.

You continued to move onwards. "Impossible! Impossible!" I cried;
"It cannot be done. O, pray, come away."

Then you knelt upon the footboard, and said,--"You are right. It
cannot be done in that way; but we can save the train. Help me
to get these irons asunder."

The engine was connected with the train by two great iron hooks
and staples. By a tremendous effort, in making which I almost lost
my balance, we unhooked the irons and detached the train; when,
with a mighty leap as of some mad supernatural monster, the engine
sped on its way alone, shooting back as it went a great flaming
trail of sparks, and was lost in the darkness. We stood together
on the footboard, watching in silence the gradual slackening of
the speed. When at length the train had come to a standstill, we
cried to the passengers, "Saved! Saved!" and then amid the confusion
of opening the doors and descending and eager talking, my dream
ended, leaving me shattered and palpitating with the horror of it.

--London, Nov. 1876.





II. The Wonderful Spectacles*