The expresses could just
manage it."
"Oh, well," said the driver, "we're down to run it, and we're going to
try."
"There'll be drifts twenty feet deep in the cutting, and it'll be like
running into a house," said the guard, slowly, "but I suppose we've got
to try, anyhow."
He walked away thoughtfully to his van, and a moment later there was a
shrill whistle, and the Lansdale local ran out into the night.
And it _was_ a night! There was no moon, and not the least glimmer of a
star overhead; an utter darkness shrouded the world. The wind was high
and steady, and its mournful howling through the rocky cuttings of the
railway sounded unspeakably melancholy. Driven by the gale, the
snowflakes had in five minutes covered the windward side of the train
with a winding-sheet, inches deep, and when Gus Todd, from curiosity,
opened the window to peer out into the night, the flakes, heavy, large,
and soft, whirled into the carriage a very cataract of snow.
"Don't, Gus, please," pleaded Acton, looking up from his book in
astonishment at the snow glittering in the lamp-light; "I prefer that
outside, thanks."
"It's an awful storm, Acton," said Gus, hastily drawing up the window.
"Allah! how it snows!"
"Is this up to the usual sample here?" asked Senior, nestling nearer the
dozing Dick.
"Well," said Acton, listening a moment to the stroke of the engine, and
the roar of the wind, "I think we may say it is."
"Blizzard seems nearer the word, old man.
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