to guide them to the
spot, and a moment after, five of the students were swarming about the
wreck, intent on saving the three whose lives were still in danger.

A lamp torn from some demolished carriage was held through an opening,
and Helen saw a sight that made her blood chill in her veins. Across
her feet, crushed and bleeding, lay the youngest of the students, and
kneeling close beside him was Hoffman, supporting by main strength a
mass of timber, which otherwise would fall and crush them all. His
face was ghastly pale, his eyes haggard with pain and suspense, and
great drops stood upon his forehead. But as she looked, he smiled with
a cheery.--

"Bear up, dear lady, we shall soon be out of danger. Now, lads, work
with a will; my strength is going fast."

They did work like heroes, and even in her pain and peril, Helen
admired the skill, energy, and courage of the young men, who, an hour
ago, had seemed to have no ideas above pipes and beer. Soon Hoffman
was free, the poor senseless youth lifted out, and then, as tenderly
as if she were a child, they raised and set her down, faint but
unhurt, in a wide meadow, already strewn with sad tokens of the wreck.

Karl was taken possession of as well as herself, forced to rest a
moment, drink a cordial draught from some one's flask, and be praised,
embraced, and enthusiastically blessed by the impetuous youths.

"Where is the boy who was hurt? Bring him to me. I am strong now.
I want to help. I have salts in my pocket, and I can bind up his
wounds," said Helen, soon herself again.

Karl and Helen soon brought back life and sense to the boy, and never
had human face looked so lovely as did Helen's to the anxious comrades
when she looked up in the moonlight with a joyful smile, and softly
whispered,--

"He is alive."

For an hour terrible confusion reigned, then the panic subsided a
little, and such of the carriages as were whole were made ready to
carry away as many as possible; the rest must wait till a return train
could be sent for them.

A struggle of course ensued, for every one wished to go on, and fear
made many selfish. The wounded, the women and children, were taken, as
far as possible, and the laden train moved away, leaving many anxious
watchers behind.

Helen had refused to go, and had given her place to poor Conrad,
thereby overwhelming his brother and comrades with gratitude. Two went
on with the wounded lad; the rest remained, and chivalrously devo