to force the sash upward. They
had scarcely had time to cry out that he had entered the room when he
was out again--pursued by the flame that now roared from the open space,
but with something under his arm. Somebody had brought out a large
blanket, and four men were holding it; the engine was just beginning to
play feebly where it wasn't wanted; and a short ladder had been borrowed
from somewhere. He dropped a little heavily from the window, but was on
his feet when they called to him to let the child fall, and a cheer went
up as he seemed to gather up his strength, and tossed his living burden
from him, so that it cleared the edge of the wood-work, and was caught
and placed in her father's arms.

"Jump! jump for your life!" they cried, for the wretched portico had
begun to sway, and every lip turned white. It was too late; he had
stooped to swing himself off, when the whole thing fell in ruin, and he
in the midst of it, covered with the heavy lead and woodwork, and the
stone and bricks that had come down with it.

A score of strong and willing hands lifted the wreck away piecemeal,
and, under the direction of the doctor, got him out and placed him on a
hurdle made soft with blankets and straw. He was insensible, but his
face and head were uninjured, for he was found lying with his arms
protecting both. Carefully they bore him to the vicarage, the vicar
following, and his sister already at the door with everything ready.

It was nearly an hour before the sad group of men who stood outside
anxiously waiting heard that he was so seriously injured that his life
was in danger, and that he was still unconscious. Raspall was crying
more for the accident than for his injured house, which was still
smouldering, though the engine had at last put out the fire. His child
was safe, but he felt almost guilty for rejoicing that her life had been
spared. Binks and Clodd sat patiently on the fence opposite the vicarage
talking in low tones. At last the vicar came out to them and told them
to go home. The patient would not be left for a moment. In the morning
he would let them know if there was any change.

There was a change, but only after long efforts to restore
consciousness; and the vicar himself sat by the injured man's bedside,
with something in his hand upon which his tears fell as he looked at it
by the light of the shaded lamp. When De Montfort had been carried in
and placed upon the bed the doctor had asked to be allowed