at first; he had a spite against the place. But
soon he became alarmed, and hammered at the
door and tried to force it. Impossible. " Fire!'
rang from men's voices. Fire crackled above his
head. He ran about the room like a wild creature.
He sprang up at the window and dashed
his hand through, but fell back. He sprang
again and got his hand on some of the lighter
woodwork; he drew himself up nearly to the
window, and then the wood gave way and he
fell to the ground, and striking the back of his
head, nearly stunned himself; Hie flames roared
fearfully now; and at this David, who had
hitherto sat unconcerned, started up, and in
a stentorian voice issued order upon order to
furl every rag of sail and bring the ship to the
wind. He thought it was a tempest. "Oh
hush! hush!" cried Alfred in vain. A beam fell
from the roof to the floor, precursor of the rest.
On this David thought the ship was ashore, and
shouted a fresh set of orders proper to the occasion,
so terribly alike are the angry voices of the
sister-elements. But Alfred implored him, and
got him to kneel down with him, and held his
hand, and prayed.

And, even while they kneeled and Alfred
prayed, Death and Life met and fought for them.
Under the door, tight as it was, and through the
keyhole struggled a hot stifling smoke, merciful
destroyer running before fire: and the shadow of
a gigantic figure began to flicker in from the
outside, and to come and go upon the wall.
Alfred did not know what that was, but it gave
him a vague hope: he prayed aloud as men pray
only for their bodies. (The crowd heard him and
hushed itself breathless.)

The smoke penetrated faster, blinding and
stifling; the giant shadow came and went. But
now the greater part of the roof fell in with an
awful report; the blazing timbers thundered
down to the basement with endless clatter of
red-hot tiles; the walls quivered, and the building
belched skyward a thousand jets of fire like a
bouquet of rockets; and then a cloud of smoke.
Alfred gave up all hope, and prepared to die.
Crash! as if discharged from a cannon, came
bursting through the window, with the roar of an
applauding multitude and a mother's unheeded
scream, a helmeted figure, rope in hand, and
alighted erect and commanding on the floor
amidst a shower of splinters and tinkling glass.
"Up men for your lives," roared this fire-warrior,
clutching them hard, and dragged them both up
to their feet by one prodigious gesture: all three
faces came together and shone in the lurid light;
and he knew his father and "the Wretch," and
"the Wretch" knew him. "Oh!" "Ah!" passed
like pistol shots; but not a word: even this
strange meeting went for little, so awful was the
moment, so great are Death and Fire. Edward
clawed his rope to the bed; up to the window
by it, dropped his line to fireman Jackson
planted express below, and in another moment
was hauling up a rope ladder: this he attached,
and getting on it and holding his own rope by
way of banister, cried " Now men, quick, for
your lives." But poor David called that deserting
the ship, and demurred, till Alfred assured
him the captain had ordered it. He then
submitted directly, touched his forelock to
Edward, whom he took for that officer, and went
down the ladder; Alfred followed.

Now the moment those two figures emerged
from the burning pile, Mrs. Dodd, already half
dead with terror for her son, saw and knew her
husband: for all about him it was as light as day.

What terror! what joy! what gratitude!
what pride! what a tempest of emotions!

But her fears were not ended; Edward, not to
over-weight the ladder, went dangling by his
hands along the rope towards the tree. And his
mother's eyes stared fearfully from him to the
other, and her heart hung trembling on her
husband descending cautiously, and then on his
preserver, her son, who was dangling along by the
hands on that frail support. The mob cheered him
royally, but she screamed and hid her face again.
At last both her darlings were safe, and then the
lusty cheers made her thrill with pride and joy,
till all of a sudden they seemed to die away and
the terrible fire to go out; and the sore-tried
wife and mother drooped her head and swooned
away, wedged in and kept from falling by the
crowd.

Inside, the mob parted and made two rushes,
one at the rescued men, one at the gallant fireman.
Alfred and David were overpowered with
curiosity and sympathy. They had to shake a
hundred honest hands; and others still pressing
on, hurried them nearly off their feet.

"Gently, good friends; don't part us," said
Alfred.

"He is the keeper," said one of the crowd.

"Yes, I'm his keeper: and I want to get him
quietly away. This excitement will do him harm
else; good friends, help me out by that door."

"All right," was the cry, and they rushed
with him to the back door, Rooke, who was about
twenty yards off, saw and suspected this movement.
He fought his way and struggled after
Alfred in silence. Presently, to his surprise,
Alfred unlocked the door and whipped out with
David, leaving the door open. Rooke shouted
and halloaed: "Stop him! he is escaping," and
struggled madly to the door: now another
crowd had been waiting in the meadows; seeing
the door opened they rushed in and the doorway
was jammed directly. In the confusion
Alfred drew David along the side of the wall;
told him to stay quiet, bolted behind an
outhouse, and then ran across country for the bare
life.

To his horror David followed him, and with a
madman's agility soon caught him.

He snorted like a spirited horse, and shouted
cheerily, "Go ahead, messmate; I smell blue
water."

"Come on then," cried Alfred, half mad
himself with excitement, and the pair ran furiously,
and dashed through hedges and ditches, torn,