“You _must_! I tell you she _shall_ be saved!” Virgie cried, almost savagely, and, seizing hold of one of the fallen timbers in her excitement, she gave it a wrench which told, and showed that it was not impossible as it had first appeared to rescue the unhappy victim. Thus inspired and encouraged, the man braced himself and pulled with all his might at the berth in which the woman lay. It yielded; they knew they would save her. A fearful shriek rent the air; then all was still. “Oh! pull her out. I can brace this beam for a moment,” Virgie cried, and calling all her strength and will to her aid, she did actually brace herself against one of those heavy timbers, holding it back, until the man dragged the unfortunate woman from her perilous situation, and then, gathering her all unconscious, in his arms, he staggered out of the now rapidly burning car, closely followed by Virgie, who had barely strength enough left to reach the open air. “Lend a hand here, somebody,” cried her companion, and three or four helpers sprang forward to relieve him of his burden, when he turned and caught the brave woman, who had risked her own life to save that of an enemy, just as her strength failed her and she would have fallen senseless, back into the burning wreck. The account of her heroism flew from lip to lip, and many willing hands were stretched forth to minister to her. Restoratives were brought, a physician was called to attend her, and it was not many minutes before she rallied, although she was as weak as a little child from the terrible strain during those last few moments in the burning car. But she refused all attention now. “I do not suffer—I am uninjured; I am only temporarily exhausted. Go to those who need you,” she said, and creeping to the spot where she had left her child, she gathered her close in her arms and burst into a passion of thankful tears—thankful, not only because they had been spared unharmed to each other, but because she had been enabled to obey the divine mandate “Do good unto them which hate you,” and though Lady Linton might never know _who_ had saved her—might never experience an atom of gratitude to her whom she had wronged, yet _she_ would always have the blessed consciousness of evil resisted and a noble action performed. CHAPTER V. VIRGIE BECOMES A NURSE. Three cars of that night train had been literally dashed in pieces, two more had been partially demolished, and only two baggage cars and the engine remained uninjured. Twenty passengers had been killed outright, several were so badly injured that their death was only a question of time, and many were crippled for life.