Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1882-08-07

and 1T bid fair to be a stormy night.
A special freight train left an hour
ahead of us, which we were to pass
at Somerset.
The night, as it grew later, proved
to be one of the toughest I had ever
experienced. The wind blew a per-
feet hurricane from the north, the
glare of the lightning was incessant,
and heavy peals of thunder rolled
along the sky.
''Watch sharp for red hight at
bridge No. 2" / heard the train mas
ter say to the engineer of the freight
train, as his heavy train pulled out of
the yard.
"Bridge No. 2" was the one close
by the O'Neils-the long one over
the river was just this side, and
known as ''NO. 1"-their little cot
tage was nestled in the thick woods
between the two.
Just how it happened 1 suppose
no one exactly knows, but it seemed
that "bridge No. % had been swept
away by the fury of the storm, and
the red lantern, safely placed by
careful hands to stop the advancing
train, had gone out in the terrible
gale. The heavy freight, propelled
down the steep grade between the
two bridges by its own weight, push
ed with scream by the little cottage
and took the terrible plunge into
the air, down 80 feet to the rocks be-
low.
When / saw it, early the next
morning, the wreck was complete
with the dead mangled bodies of the
train-men wedged into the water and
crushed down by the heavy timber.
"And our train !" you ask.
Well, I'll tell you all about that as
it was told to me.
Florence and her mother were
about retiring to rest believing the
lantern to be safely burning, when
they heard the shrill whistle of the
freight and a moment later the fear
full crash. Realizing in a moment
what had happened, Florence grasp
ed a lantern and amid the hurricane
of wind, the deluge of water, the in
cessant glare of the lightning and
peal after peal of thunder. left the
cottage and started for the wreck.
Her light went out very soon in
the wind, but she bravely felt her
way through the woods and falling
timbers to the very edge of the rush
ing waters that covered the crushed
and drowned men.
She could hear no sound to tell
her that any one yet lived to relate
the story of that terrible leap to
death. She knew that the long night
express, with its load of passengers,
was nearly due, and none to warn
them of their danger; a lantern
nf hn i,aa
of the gale.
The telegraph Office at Somerset
or Maitland was the only place to
avert the catastrophe. To Somerset
was FIVE miles, over hills and through
the woods, and long before she could
reach there it would be too late-the
express would have gone down.
Maitland was only one mile, but be-
tween her and Maitland was the river,
ten or fifteen feet above its natural
hight, and to pass this she must
cross over bridge No. 1, fifty feet
above the roaring, rushing water.
She must cross this bridge, 400
feet long, with nothing but the ties
and rails for support, the wind blow
ing a gale, and the foaming, seeth-
ing, muddy waters below! Not one
man in a thousand but would have
shrunk from such a task; not one in
five hundred would have gone over
at any price or under any considera-
tions.
But my brave, noble girl, with the
nerve of a giant, never hesitated.
never stopped to fear. Gathering
up her flowing skirts, and on hands
and knees she crawled over the long
bridge. Slowly tie after tie was
passed. 1t was already time for our
train to come dashing over the bridge
and hurl her down to death amid the
dark and muddy waters of the rush.
ing river. The blood from her lacer-
ated knees had stained her dress,
but she did not falter; her long hair
is blown out from her net by the fury
of the wind, but she must not stop.
At last she reached the shore, and
almost flew up the track to the office,
where our train was almost ready to
start. Breathless and in broken ac-
cents, she told her sad, fearful story,
and then, faint and weak from ex-.
citement, fell back into my eager,
waiting arms. Half unconscious, /
carried her into the dry, warm office,
and as / put her down, her great
earnest eyes opened wearily for
moment, to meet mine and read the
love in them, and her white lips
smiled.
"You are saved!' she murmured,
very low. "Oh, George, l never
could have done 1t, but l knew it was
your train" l clasped the brave
little heroine close in my wet arms,
never more to let her go.
The sun of the next morning, as it
rose clear and bright, glistened on the
rain droac nnapinU over info tho