“Oh, no! he wasn’t. The smoking-car was not thrown off the track,” interposed the young officer, promptly removing from her mind the terrible fear which took possession of her first conscious moments. “Are you much hurt?”
“I don’t know; I don’t think I am; but one of my arms feels very numb.”
“Let me examine it,” continued our traveler, tenderly raising the injured member.
He was not deeply skilled in surgery; but he knew enough of the mysteries of anatomy to discover that the arm was broken between the elbow and the shoulder.
“I am afraid your arm is broken,” said he cautiously, as though he feared the announcement would cause her to faint again.
“I am glad it is no worse,” said she with a languid smile, and without exhibiting the least indication of feminine weakness.
“It might have been worse, certainly. Can I do anything more for you?” added Lieutenant Somers, glancing at the wreck of the cars, with a feeling that his duty then was a less pleasing one than that of attending to the wants of the beautiful stranger; for there were still men and women lying helpless and unserved in the midst of the ruins.
The train stopped upon the road; and the passengers, though appalled by the sight, rushed down the bank to render willing assistance to the sufferers. Among them was the father of the young lady, who leaped frantically down the steep, and passed from one to another of the forms which the survivors had taken from the wreck.
“There is your father,” said Lieutenant Somers as he recognized him among the excited passengers. “I will go and tell him where you are.”
“Do, if you please,” replied the lady faintly.