Just then, their own bell sounded, and men jumped on board. Kenneth Kincaid came back to his seat.
Behind, there was a long New York train coming in.
Mr. Ledwith put his head out again, and looked back. All right; there had been a flag; the train had slackened just beyond a curve.
But why will people do such things? What is the use of asking? Mr. Ledwith still looked out; he could not have told you why.
A quicker motion; a darkening of the window; a freight car standing upon a siding, close to the switch, as they passed by; a sudden, dull blow, half unheard in the rumble of the train. Women, sitting behind, sprang up,--screamed; one dropped, fainting: they had seen a ghastly sight; warm drops of blood flew in upon them; the car was in commotion.
Kenneth Kincaid, with an exclamation of horror, clutched hold of a lifeless body that fell--was thrust--backward beside him; the poor head fractured, shattered, against the fatal window frame.
People came up the street,--a group of gentlemen, three or four,--toward Mr. Prendible's house.
Desire sat in a back window behind the blinds, busy. Mrs. Ledwith was lying on the bed.
There was an exclamation; a hush. Mr. Prendible's voice, Kenneth Kincaid's, Mr. Dimsey's, the minister's.
"What is the matter?"--springing up, with a sudden instinct of precognition.
Desire had not seen or heard till now. She dropped her work.
Mrs. Ledwith was up, upon the floor; in the doorway out in the passage; trembling; seized all over with a horrible dread and vague knowledge.
"_Tell_ me what it is!" she cried, to those down below.
They were all there upon the staircase; Mrs. Prendible furthest up.
"O, Mrs. Ledwith!" she cried. "_Don't_ be frightened! _Don't_ take on! Take it easy,--do!"
Desire rushed down among them; past Mrs. Prendible, past the minister, straight to Kenneth Kincaid.
Kenneth took her right in his arms, and carried her into a little room below.
"There could have been no pain," he said, tenderly. "It was the accident of a moment. Be strong,--be patient, dear!"
There had been tender words natural to his lips lately. It was not strange that in his great pity he used them now.
"Yes; your father. It was our Father's will."
She took his hand, half blind, almost reeling.