hem a thrill of terror passed over
her.

She saw a great column of smoke rising from the roof of the store, and a
little flame leaping up through it.

The next moment, an axe in her hand, she was on the street.

"Fire! Fire! The store's on fire!"

Her clear voice rang wild and sharp on the still night air. The echoes
mocked her.

"Colonel Hornberger, get up!"

With her axe's handle she rattled fierce blows on the front door of the
proprietor's house.

"Help! Help!"

The echoes hurled back her voice mockingly:

"Help! ha, ha!"

"He is dead," she thought, "and the echoes are making fun of me."

Cry after cry she uttered in her anguish, fierce alarm-notes that
aroused the heavy sleepers and brought them to the windows, only to
hastily throw on some clothes and rush to the rescue, for they all knew
that Gill slept in the store and even then might be dead.

Oh! Lizzi's strength! No longer screaming in terror, no more exhausting
her breath by calling for help, she dealt mighty blows with the axe
against the door of the office, above which her husband slept. Giant
strokes, rapid, unerring, concentrated, made effective by the skill of a
woodman, the strength of despair and the agony of love. Against them the
door could not stand. It fell in, cut off its hinges. A great volume of
smoke rolled out and beat her back.

A closed door separated the office from the store and was a barrier to
the flames which were raging in the store-room.

Drawing a full breath and bowing low, Lizzi plunged into the office and
reached the stair door. Well she knew the way. The door was closed, and
she was so unnerved with joy that for a moment she clung to the latch
and listened to the flames roaring in the store. She could see them
through the window which give light from the office to the rear of the
store, and they fascinated her. The heat cracked the glass in the
window, and a tongue of flame leaped towards the opening made by a
falling pane.

This recalled Lizzi to a sense of the danger and the need for urgent
action. She jerked the door open, breaking the latch, and sped up the
stairs, chased by a volume of smoke. To her horror it filled the room,
else it was in her eyes. Thank God! she had brought the axe. Staggering
to the windows, she smashed them both and knocked the shutters open,
giving vent to the smoke.

She could not see Gill, but she knew just where he lay. With an effort
she reached the bed. Her mouth was firmly