“I must, darling,” Virgie answered, firmly. “I cannot leave Mina to die there. Be a brave little girl and do not detain me. I will come back as soon as I can.”
“But I am afraid, mamma.”
“Nothing can harm you now, dear; we are both safe, thank God! while no one can tell how many have met their doom and are dead or dying.”
She bent down and kissed the child tenderly, thankfully, and then sped back to the car, determined to know the fate of her maid.
All about her the direst confusion prevailed. Men were hurrying hither and thither. Women were weeping and moaning, and wandering about calling piteously for lost ones, while children were screaming with fright and pain.
It was lighter now, for two of the cars were burning, having taken fire from overturned lamps, and Virgie made her way more easily back into the sleeper she had left.
“Mina! Mina!” she called, springing toward the berth she occupied, and to her intense relief a muffled sound came back in reply, and she knew that she was not dead.
She found that the top of her car had been smashed in, and the girl, thus pinioned to her berth, was half-suffocated by the pressure from above.
Virgie never could tell afterward how she managed to release her, but by dint of encouragement and commands she succeeded in making the girl exert herself, and, using all her own strength, she by degrees got her to the edge of the berth and finally out of it.
“Are you badly hurt Mina?” she asked, as she supported the half-fainting girl, and wrapped a blanket around her trembling form.