hose who were
uninjured, or only slightly hurt, lent willing aid to extricate their
less fortunate fellow-travellers, but the howling of the wind, the
deluging rain, and the darkness of the night, retarded their efforts,
and in many cases rendered them unavailing.

John Marrot, who, as we have said, was shot high into the air, fell by
good fortune into a large bush. He was stunned at first, but otherwise
uninjured. On regaining consciousness, the first thoughts that flashed
across him were his wife and child. Rising in haste he made his way
towards the engine, which was conspicuous not only by its own fire, but
by reason of several other fires which had been kindled in various
places to throw light on the scene. In the wreck and confusion, it was
difficult to find out the carriage, in which Mrs Marrot had travelled,
and the people about were too much excited to give very coherent answers
to questions. John, therefore, made his way to a knot of people who
appeared to be tearing up the _debris_ at a particular spot. He found
Joe Turner, the guard, there, with his head bandaged and his face
covered with blood.

"I've bin lookin' for 'ee everywhere, John," said Joe. "She's _there_!"
he added, pointing to a mass of broken timbers which belonged to a
carriage, on the top of which the guard's van had been thrown, crushing
it almost flat.

John did not require to ask the meaning of his words. The guard's look
was sufficiently significant. He said not a word, but the deadly pallor
of his countenance showed how much he felt. Springing at once on the
broken carriage, and seizing an axe from the hand of a man who appeared
exhausted by his efforts, he began to cut through the planking so as to
get at the interior. At intervals a half-stifled voice was heard crying
piteously for "John."

"Keep up heart, lass!" said John, in his deep, strong voice. "I'll get
thee out before long--God helping me."

Those who stood by lent their best aid, but anxious though they were
about the fate of those who lay buried beneath that pile of rubbish,
they could not help casting an occasional look of wonder, amounting
almost to awe, on the tall form of the engine-driver, as he cut through
and tore up the planks and beams with a power that seemed little short
of miraculous.

Presently he stopped and listened intently for a moment, while the
perspiration rolled in big drops from his brow.

"Dost hear me, Mary?" he asked in a deeply an