Year: 1859

1t was a fearful night in the latter part Of
November. The frozen rain beat ccaseless-
ly against the easements of O little cottage
situated high up on the bold brow of one
of the hills of the Pentland range of noun
tains; and the wind ratified the wooden
door-latch SO fercely that you would have
thought the fingers of a ghost were seeking
to unloose the portal. The blue smoke of
the pine knot fire on the hearth in the hum
BILE kitchen was blown out in fantastic
wreaths in the faces of the occupants of the
room, and the sleek gray cat in the corner
opened her eyes in amazement ut the ''un-
canny" proceeding.


Rachel Wharton sat by the fire, holding
in her lap the sleeping form of her little
sister Grace. The two girls were alone in
the house, their parents having gone down
the river two days before, to dispose of their
little stock of butter and cheese, and bring
back in return, groceries for winter con-
sumption.


Far away from all human habitation the
cottage of the Wharton's stood but Ra-
chel was brave girl-born and bred among
the wild hills-and she felt no fear.


Tonight, for some reason which she
could not explain to herself, she had failed
to retire at her usual hour and now her eyes
were bright and wide open gazing fixedly
into the glowing fire. Suddenly she rose
up, and putting her sister upon a bed in a
corner of the room, she threw her apron
over her head and went out into the night.


1t was pitchy dark, and the frigid gusts
of wind pierced through her thin clothing
but she did not heed-for rising above all
the din of wind and waters came to her ears
the crash of timbers and the clanking of
iron chains! She listened with strained
nerves and hushed heart again there was a
low, heavy rumbling in the distance-the
solid earth beneath her feet quivered-a mo-
mentary pause, and then the dull, dead
shock of some heavy object falling from a
great height


She understood it now; the railway bridge
which spanned the river mile below in the
valley, Fad been swept away ; and the de-
struction of the huge pile of masonry and
the falling of the chained timbers, had occa-
stoned the strange sounds to which she had
listened. She had scarcely time to arrive
at this conclusion, when another thought
struck her.


The express train bound eastward was due
at Hartstein, the next town, at eleven o.
clock; it must now, even, be near that
hour


She flew back to the room she had Just
left, and examined the clock upon the man
tel The hour hand pointed to the figure
ten! Rachel clasped her hands in despair.


"Oh, Heaven! but one hour-one little
hour between the train and destruction =
The maddened river cutting me from all
other help-what can do 80


She stood moment in silent thought,
then again she spoke aloud -


eyes, will venture it; can but fail
and it is my duty. The river is swollen and
wild, but have managed the raft in many
a storm-I will try my skill again God
forbid that l should stay here in safety to
know that SO many of my fellow-creatures
are hurrying on to such death unwarn-
ed %


While she was speaking she hastily gath
cred basket full of pitch knots from the
pile in the corner of the hearth, and after
lighting Intern, she carefully extinguish-
ed the fire in the chimney. On tiptoe she
the couch of Grace, pressed a
kiss on the rosy lips, drew the
covering more close about the little form,
and commenting the innocent sleeper to the
care of Heaven. she cautiously opened the
door and passed out.


The air was thick and dark, and the winds
swept down from the mountains with demo-
MAC fury She hccdci nothing. but hur