driver, equally impatient, jerked the starting lever, and the engine
bounded forward like a horse, giving a shock to the train, and nearly
upsetting the woman, who was still wrestling with her personal effects
between the rows of seats. With a sudden effort, she freed herself,
opened the door, and stood upon the platform.

The engine had wheezed three times, and she hesitated to jump. She
screamed shrilly. The sound entered the ears of Marcus Wilkeson, who was
whisking dust and ashes off his clothes with a handkerchief. He ran
forward, and saw the predicament of his pale and nervous fellow
traveller. She screamed again, as the engine wheezed for the
eighth time.

Marcus extended his hand. "Jump!" said he; "I'll catch you."

She did jump, much to the surprise of Marcus and the two lookers
on--thereby indicating decision of character.

Marcus caught her in his arms--bandbox, basket, and all--and the train
hurried on.

"Thank you, sir," said the lady, with some confusion. Then she walked
rapidly down the road toward the village, like one who lived there.

"A customer for the panorama, perhaps," said Tiffles. "I'm glad you
landed her safely." Tiffles had got through his thinking, and was
exhilarate again. He laughed so pleasantly, that even Marcus relaxed his
grim visage, and smiled.

"Not a bad ankle, that," observed Patching, looking at the rapidly
retreating form of the rescued woman. Patching, artist-like, was always
discovering beauties where nobody else looked for them.

Marcus had no eye for the charms of nature that morning, and he
responded not to the remark which the artist had addressed to him.
Whereupon Patching determined not to speak to Marcus again that day.

They followed the mysterious female down the road which led to the
village. On the fences, every few rods, were plastered posters
announcing the "Panorama of Africa" for that evening, at "Washington
Hall"--"Tickets, twenty-five cents"--"Children under twelve years of
age, half price," &c., &c. As B. Persimmon, P.M., had said, in one of
his letters, some of the posters were stuck upside down. This
circumstance did not seem to prevent the population from reading them;
for the party observed at least two boys (half prices) in the act of
spelling them out between their legs.

Tiffles was so absorbed in the contemplation of the posters, Patching in
a critical survey of the scenery on both sides of the road, and Marcus
Wilkeson in an introspectio