It was night, dark and starless, and I found myself, together with the whole company of doomed men and women who knew that they were soon to die, but not how or where, in a railway train hurrying through the darkness to some unknown destination.  I sat in a carriage quite at the rear end of the train, in a corner seat, and was leaning out of the open window, peering into the darkness, when, suddenly, a voice, which seemed to speak out of the air, said to me in a low, distinct, in-tense tone, the mere recollection of which makes me shudder,—­“The sentence is being carried out even now.  You are all of you lost.  Ahead of the train is a frightful precipice of monstrous height, and at its base beats a fathomless sea.  The railway ends only with the abyss, Over that will the train hurl itself into annihilation, There Is No One On The Engine!”

At this I sprang from my seat in horror, and looked round at the faces of the persons in the carriage with me.  No one of them had spoken, or had heard those awful words.  The lamplight from the dome of the carriage flickered on the forms, about me.  I looked from one to the other, but saw no sign of alarm given by any of them.  Then again the voice out of the air spoke to me,—­“There is but one way to be saved.  You must leap out of the train!”

In frantic haste I pushed open the carriage door and stepped out on the footboard.  The train was going at a terrific pace, swaying to and fro as with the passion of its speed; and the mighty wind of its passage beat my hair about my face and tore at my garments.

Until this moment I had not thought of you, or even seemed conscious of your presence in the train.  Holding tightly on to the rail by the carriage door, I began to creep along the footboard towards the engine, hoping to find a chance of dropping safely down on the line.  Hand over hand I passed along in this way from one carriage to another; and as I did so I saw by the light within each carriage that the passengers had no idea of the fate upon which they were being hurried.  At length, in one of the compartments, I saw you.  “Come out!” I cried; “come out!  Save yourself!  In another minute we shall be dashed to pieces!”

You rose instantly, wrenched open the door, and stood beside me outside on the footboard.  The rapidity at which we were going was now more fearful than ever.  The train rocked as it fled onwards.  The wind shrieked as we were carried through it.  “Leap down,” I cried to you; “save yourself!  It is certain death to stay here.  Before us is an abyss; and there is no one on the engine!”

At this you turned your face full upon me with a look of intense earnestness, and said, “No, we will not leap down.  We will stop the train.”

With these words you left me, and crept along the foot-board towards the front of the train.  Full of half angry anxiety at what seemed to me a Quixotic act, I followed.  In one of the carriages we passed I saw my mother and eldest brother, unconscious as the rest.  Presently we reached the last carriage, and saw by the lurid light of the furnace that the voice had spoken truly, and that there was no one on the engine.