wept away its fury, and electric fires burned low in
the far west, a gentle shower droned on the roof, and lulled by its
cadence Beryl fell asleep, still kneeling on the floor, with her head
resting on the chair where the cat lay coiled.

In dreams, she wandered with her father and brother upon a Tuscan
hillside draped with purple fruited grape vines, and Bertie was
crushing a luscious cluster against her thirsty lips, when some noise
startled her. Wide awake, she sprang to her feet, and listened.

"There ain't no train till daylight, 'cepting it be the through
freight."

"When is that due?"

"Pretty soon; it's mighty nigh time now, but it don't stop here; it
goes on to the water tank, whar it blows for the railroad bridge."

"How far is the bridge?"

"Only a short piece down the track, after you pass the tank."

Beryl had rushed to the window, and looked out, but no one was visible.
She could scarcely mistake that peculiar voice, and was so assured of
its identity, that she ran out under the awning and looked up and down
the platform in front of the station buildings. The rain had ceased,
but drops still pattered from the tin roof, and a few stars peeped over
the ragged ravelled edge of slowly drifting clouds. By the light of a
gas lamp, she saw an old negro man limping away, who held a stick over
his shoulder, on which was slung a bundle wrapped in a red
handkerchief; and while she stood watching, he vanished in some cul de
sac. With her basket in her hand, and her shawl on her arm, she sped
down the track, looking to right and left.

"Bertie! Bertie!"

Once she fancied she discerned a form flying ahead of her, leaping from
cross tie to cross tie to avoid the water, but when she called
vehemently, only the sound of her own voice broke the silence.

Was it merely an illusion born of her vivid dream of her brother; and
while scarcely awake, had she confounded the tones of a stranger, with
those so long familiar? She could not shake off the conviction that
Bertie had really spoken only a few yards from her, and while she stood
irresolute, puzzling over the problem, the through freight train dashed
by the station and left a trail of sparks and cinders. To avoid it she
sprang on a pile of cross ties beside the track, and when the fiery
serpent wound out of sight, she reluctantly retraced her steps. How
long the night seemed! Would day never dawn again? She heard the
telegraph operator whistling at his work, and