Virgie did not know how long she had slept, when she became conscious of several heavy thuds against the bottom of the car she was in, accompanied by violent jerks and wrenches, and a swaying from side to side; then it seemed as if they were being thrown into space; there was one awful moment of horror and suspense, then a terrible crash, mingled with shrieks, and groans, and prayers; after that darkness and oblivion. When she came to herself again it was to find her little daughter clinging to her in an agony of terror, calling piteously to her to “wake up and take her out of that dreadful place.” She tried to sit up, but found that she could not, there was barely space between her own and the upper berth to admit of her moving at all. To make the situation even more appalling it was as dark as Erebus, while the cries for help and the shrieks of pain all around her filled her with a sickening horror, and she knew there had been a dreadful disaster. “Are you hurt, darling?” she asked, an agony of dread at her heart, and her relief was almost as intense when the reply came: “No, mamma, only so frightened by the dreadful noises.” Virgie had not removed her clothing, simply loosened it, and now it was the work of but a moment or two to gather her wraps about her, fold a shawl around Virgie and help her from the berth, though she found great difficulty in standing erect, for the car had been thrown partly upon its side. She called to her maid; but there was no reply, and, fearing the worst for the poor girl, Virgie resolved to get her darling out of danger and then return to see what she could do for her unconscious servant. They worked their way out of the car with difficulty, realizing as they did so that the portion where they had been was the least shattered of any—that they had been wonderfully preserved. Virgie emerged from the debris as well as she could, and found herself in a swamp. She could now account for that sensation of being thrown into space, and the awful moment of suspense following before that terrible crash had come; the train had been pitched from its roadbed, she did not know how many feet above, and now lay a mass of ruins in a bog or meadow. She bore Virgie to more solid ground, set her down by some bushes, and then, throwing her own mantle over her, bade her not move from that spot until she came back to her again. “Oh! don’t go back again, mamma,” cried the child, clinging to her in terror. “I must, darling,” Virgie answered, firmly. “I cannot leave Mina to die there. Be a brave little girl and do not detain me. I will come back as soon as I can.” “But I am afraid, mamma.” “Nothing can harm you now, dear; we are both safe, thank God! while no one can tell how many have met their doom and are dead or dying.” She bent down and kissed the child tenderly, thankfully, and then sped back to the car, determined to know the fate of her maid.