Also Mr.Barnard, chief engineer of the mountain-division of the road, was to take personal charge of our car, and he had been down the mountain in it many a time.
Everything looked safe.

Indeed, there was but one questionable detail left: the regular train was to follow us as soon as we should start, and it might run over us.

Privately, I thought it would.
The road fell sharply down in front of us and went corkscrewing in and out around the crags and precipices, down, down, forever down, suggesting nothing so exactly or so uncomfortably as a croaked toboggan slide with no end to it.

Mr.Pugh waved his flag and started, like an arrow from a bow, and before I could get out of the car we were gone too.

I had previously had but one sensation like the shock of that departure, and that was the gaspy shock that took my breath away the first time that I was discharged from the summit of a toboggan slide.