s? Did the good God put me here? If he put me here, will he keep me
here? Or did he put me here to die! To die in this cold? It is cold,--it
is very cold! Is there any good in my dying? The train will run down,
and they will see a dead body lying under the bridge,--black on the
snow, with a red lantern by it. Then they will stop. Shall I--I
will--just go back to see if the lights are at the bend. I will leave
the lantern here on the edge of this wall!" And so Silas turned, half
benumbed, worked his way nearly out of the gorge, and started as he
heard, or thought he heard, a baby's scream. "A thousand babies are
starving, and I am afraid to stay here to give them their life," he
said. "There is a boy fit for a soldier! Order out the relief! Drum-head
court-martial! Prisoner, hear your sentence! Deserter, to be shot!
Blindfold,--kneel, sir! Fire! Good enough for deserters!" And so poor
Silas worked back again to the lantern.

And now he saw and felt sure that Orion was bending downward, and he
knew that the night must be broken; and, with some new hope, throwing
down the shovel with which he had been working, he began his soldier
tramp once more,--as far as soldier tramp was possible with those
trailing snow-shoes,--tried again on "No war nor battle sound," broke
down on "Cynthia's seat" and the "music of the spheres;" but at
last,--working on "beams," "long beams," and "that with long beams,"--he
caught the stanzas he was feeling for, and broke out exultant with,--

"At last surrounds their sight,
A globe of circular light
That with long beams the shame-faced night arrayed;
The helmed cherubim
And sworded seraphim
Are seen in glittering ranks--"

"Globe of circular light--am I dreaming, or have they come!"--

Come they had! The globe of circular light swept full over the valley,
and the scream of the engine was welcomed by the freezing boy as if it
had been an angel's whisper to him. Not unprepared did it find him. The
red lantern swung to and fro in a well-practised hand, and he was in
waiting on his firmest spot as the train _slowed_ and the engine passed
him.

"Do not stop for me," he cried, as he threw his weight heavily on the
tender side, and the workmen dragged him in. "Only run slow till you are
out of the ledge: we have made a milk station at the cross-road."

"Good for you!" said the wondering fireman, who in a moment understood
the exigency. The heavy plough threw out th