The broken glass was still falling from the shattered deck lights when he reached Section Six. The young woman was unhurt, but she was very pale, and the gray eyes were full of terror.
“Don’t faint,” said Brant very gently, though he was wondering what he should do in case she did. “It is all over now, I think.”
“But the others?” she faltered.
“Let us hope that the other cars have kept the track—that it is only the ‘wreck of the Hesperus.’”
She smiled at the conceit, and asked what they should do.
“If you will promise not to faint while I am gone, I’ll go and find out. There is no danger now.”
“I’m not going to faint; but please don’t be gone long.”
He was back in a moment, gathering up her belongings.
“There is nothing smashed but our car,” he explained. “They will leave flagmen with it, and go on to Denver with the remainder of the train. Will you take my arm?”
The wrecked sleeper was already surrounded by a throng of curious passengers and anxious trainmen, and ready hands were extended to help them down from the uptilted platform. But Brant put them all aside, and lifted his companion to the ground as if the right were his alone.