for the fiery death?

Down below her, the narrow brink--the rushing river. No foothold--no
chance for a descent. Behind her, only those two doors, barring out
flame and smoke!

And the little footbridge, lying in the light across the water, and the
green fields stretching away, cool and safe beyond. A little
farther--her home!

"Fire!"

She cried the fearful word out upon the night, uselessly. There was no
one near. The village slumbered on, away there to the left. The strong,
deep shout of a man might reach it, but no tone of hers. There were no
completed or occupied dwelling houses, as yet, about the new mills. Mr.
Rushleigh was putting up some blocks; but, for the present, there was
nothing nearer than the village proper of Kinnicutt on the one hand, and
as far, or farther, on the other the houses at Lakeside.

The flames themselves, alone, could signal her danger, and summon help.
How long would it be first?

Thoughts of father, mother, and little brother--thoughts of the kind
friends at Lakeside, parted from but a few hours before--thoughts of the
young lover to whom the answer he waited for should be given, perhaps,
so awfully; through all, lighting, as it were, suddenly and searchingly,
the deep places of her own soul, the thought--the feeling, rather, of
that presence in her dream; of him who had led her, taught her, lifted
her so, to high things; brought her nearer, by his ministry, to God! Of
all human influence or love, his was nearest and strongest, spiritually,
to her, now!

All at once, across these surging, crowding, agonizing feelings, rushed
an inspiration for the present moment.

The water gate! The force pump!

The apparatus for working these lay at this end of the building. She had
been shown the method of its operation; they had explained to her its
purpose. It was perfectly simple. Only the drawing of a rope over a
pulley--the turning of a faucet. She could do it, if she could only
reach the spot.

Instantly and strangely, the cloud of terror seemed to roll away. Her
faculties cleared. Her mind was all alert and quickened. She thought of
things she had heard of years before, and long forgotten. That a wet
cloth about the face would defend from smoke. That down low, close to
the floor, was always a current of fresher air.

She turned a faucet that supplied a basin in the countingroom, held her
handkerchief to it, and saturated it with water. Then she tied it across
her forehead, letti