The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1874-11-27


observed him podding nnconsciously to
himself over his tea. Indeed, he looked so
! depressed. l was half inclined to ask TO let
] me 60 with him. But | knew he wouldn' t
! consent, as it was against the rules while,
independent of which, the man who tenn
porarily filed his place was the greatest
enemy John hao, and would be sure to tell
of him if he did so. knew Richard Malih
bore bitter enmity to my husband, and
would gladly do an i'll turn to one whose
rival he had been. 1 was aware he Lever
forgave my accepting John and rejecting
him, so held my tongue, spoke as cheer
fully as l could, as l walked with him to
the corner of the road, and waited until l
saw him appear in the signal-box, when |
retraced my steps.
/ had never felt SO nervously restless as
did that night. l could settle to nothing,
so sat down before the fire. l kept light
for Johns return, and tried 20 divert my
self with my baby, but the child soon slum-
bered, and l sat thinking until l, too. slept
The whole time / dreampt of nothing
but railways. They were everywhere rush
ing and tearing about me; there shrill
whistles deafening my ears. l beheld the
express and the mail with noiseless hor-
ror, rushing toward each other, with lights
seeming to laugh with fiendish mirth; there
was an awful cry-a crash, and a scene of
destruction. was awakened by my own
cries
Irritated at being SO startled, l hustled
oh fo fi.e and | Man
die to bed, and again sat by the fire and
doZed.
Scarcely had / done SO, however, than
there arose before me shadowy figure of
indefinite form, pointing out of the window
in the direction of the signal-box.
| moved restlessly, and put my hands be-
fore my face to shut it out. Finally, L
started, rose to my feet, and | could have
declared the figure stood on the hearth-rug,
in the fire-light only it gradually melted
into air.
Just then the clock struck half-past ten.
In half an hour the Wyoming express
and Henshar mail would be due. At that
L began to tretnble violently, ami throwing
on my shawl, l determined to go and look
-
White mists had raised since | was last
ont and above them, rising from bllowy
sea, as it was about mile distant, rose
the ''loolS- out distinct in the moonlight.
But where was John? Generally l could
see him moving about now, the place ap-
parently was empty.
What did it mean? There was one an
swer-John was asleep
Never shall | forget the sensation that
ran through my veins at that thought.
The crown of my head seemed to literally
lift up. Then, why, could never explain,
| ran back, seized MauuIe, and afterwards
hurr1ed te the signalbox.
Rapidly assembled the steps to the ''looE-
out.'' L tried the door, it was fastened ON
in, through the glass
John sound asleer, his head on his arms.
Calling him loudly, shook the handle.
He did not stir. All was silent, save for
the momentous tick of the clock beating
ont the fatal minutes, above his head. /
dared not delay. | dashed in the glass,
put in my hand, turned the key and en-
SiSu- IINSh tiiS uIu iOb HllIl
''John p l called, shaking bis shoulder.
What was the matter with him /? His ap-
peared no natural sleep. In my alarm at
the flying moments, fond mother as was,
/ forced Maudie to cry, hoping that might
awaken him. 1t did. Slowly he looked up
heavily but only to sink to sleep. At the
same moment heard in the distance the
faint whistle of the express train. 1t was
coming, and Henshar mail had not passed. |
The terror of whole life was condensed |
i'm those few minutes. The collision John !
had foretold had come at last. All my ef-
forts to arouse him were futile. / stood
alone, the trains were rushing to their fate.
saw the awful sight of my dream realized;
l saw men, women and children i'm one
fearful heap, amid broken carriages. My
brain reeled ; 1 turned sick /; apparently
cleared my brain.
Why should not save them
AS the question occurred, the whistle of
the advancing mail sounded. Looking
right and left, / perceived the growing
lights of each engine coming nearer, for
the line was clear. / waited no more. /
recalled what John had told me, and turned
the signal lantern for the express to slacken
speed. Eagerly, breathlessly watched.
Had /, after all made a mistake Yes-the
lights still approach. No--they stopped.
The next moment, the signal-box was
shaken to it's base by the rush Of the mail
beneath il. 1 Watched it fly off in the dis
tance, turned the light, heard the Wyom-
ing express in it's turn whirl under me, and
knew as fell insensible on the floor, that
nearly two hunderd people had been on
the brink of the grave, and that l had
saved them.
My baby's cries, however, soon recalled
my senses, when, fetching water, | dashed
it over John, and at last brought him 30.
/ shall ever remember his look when l told
h N, what had occurred He cOuld not be-