This abstract view of the matter was, however, most unsatisfactory at the present juncture; and the current of Salome's reflections was abruptly changed by the sound of the locomotive whistle,--not the prolonged, steady roar, announcing arrival, but the sharp, short, shrill note of departure. Soon after, the clock struck four, and, ere the echoes fell asleep once more in the sombre corners of the quiet parlor, Dr. Sheldon drove up to the front door and entered the house. Springing into the hall, Salome met him, and laid her hand on his arm. "Salome, your face frightens me. How is Miss Jane? Has she grown worse so rapidly since I was here this morning?" "I see little change in her. But you have locked bad news behind your set teeth. Oh, for God's sake, don't torture me one second longer! Tell me the worst. What has happened?" "The down-train was thrown from an embankment twenty feet high, and the cars took fire. Many lives have been sacrificed, and it is the most awful affair I ever heard of." He had partially averted his head to avoid the sight of her whitening and convulsed features; but, laying her hands heavily upon his shoulders, she forced him to face her, and her voice sank to a husky whisper,-- "Is he dead?" "I hope not." "Speak out,--or I shall go mad! Is he dead?" "Calm yourself, Salome, and let us hope for the best. We know nothing of the particulars of this dreadful disaster, and have learned the names of none of the sufferers. I have little doubt that Dr. Grey was on the train, but there is no certainty that he was injured. The regular up-train could not leave as usual, because the track was badly torn up; but a locomotive and three cars ran out a while ago with several surgeons and articles required for the victims. Pray sit down, my poor child, for you are unable to stand." "Where did it happen?" "Near Silver Run water-tank,--about forty miles from here. The accident occurred at twelve o'clock." Salome's grasp suddenly relaxed, and, tossing her hands above her head, she laughed hysterically,-- "Ha, ha! Thank God, he is not dead! He is only hurt,--only bleeding. Miss Jane saw it all, and he is not dead, or she would have known it. Thank God!" Dr. Sheldon was a stern man and renowned for his iron nerves, but he shuddered as he looked at the pinched, wan face, and heard the unnatural, hollow sound of her unsteady voice. Had care, watching, and suspense unpoised her reason? Something of that which passed through his mind looked out of his eyes, and interpreting their amazed expression, the girl waved her hand towards the door, and added,-- "I am not insane. Go in, and Hester will explain." He turned away, and she went back to the dusky room and threw herself down on the sofa, opposite to the portrait of the U.S. surgeon. Of what passed during the following two hours, she retained, in after years, only a dim, confused, painful memory of prayers and promises made to God in behalf of the absent.