was no waking him, it was
lift him or leave him, and somehow or other I got him out; but that
minute I'd given to listening to Satan had very nearly chucked us
both to our death, and we only just come off by the skin of our
teeth. The crowd cheered like mad when I dragged him out.

I was burned awfully bad, and such good looks as I'd had burnt off
me, and I didn't know nothing plainly for many a long day.

And when I come to myself I was in a hospital, and there was a
sweet-faced charity sister sitting looking at me, and, by the Lord,
if it wasn't Amelia! And she fell on her knees beside me, and she
says, 'Tom, I must tell you.

Ever since I found religion I've known what a wicked girl I was. O
Tom, to see you lying there, so ill! O Tom, forgive me, or I shall
go mad, I know I shall!'

And, with that, she told me straight out, holding nothing back, that
what she'd said to me that night eight years ago was a lie, no
better; and that who I'd seen in the church porch with young Wheeler
was not Jenny at all, but Amelia herself, dressed in Jenny's things.

'Oh, forgive me, Tom!' says Amelia, the tears runnin' over her nun's
dress. 'Forgive me, Tom, for I can never forgive myself! I knew
Jenny didn't rightly care about you, Tom, and I loved you so dear.
And Wheeler wanted Jenny, and so I was tempted to play off that
trick on you; I thought you would come round to me after.'

I was weak still with my illness, but I put my hand on hers, and I
says, 'I do forgive you, Amelia, for, after all, you done it for
love of me. And are you a nun, my dear?' says I.

'No,' says she, 'I'm only on liking as it were; if I don't like them
or they don't like me, I can leave any minute.'

'Then leave, for God's sake,' says I, 'if you've got a bit of love
for me left. Let bygones be bygones, and marry me as soon as I come
out of this, for it's worth something to be loved as you've loved
me, Amelia, and I was always fond of you.'

'What?' says she. 'Me marry you, and be happy after all the harm
I've done? You run away from your articles and turned fireman, and
Jenny married to a drunken brute--no, Tom, no! I don't deserve to be
happy; but, if you forgive me, I shan't be as miserable as I was.'

'Well,' says I, 'if ever you think better of it let me know.'

And the curious thing is that, within two years, she did think
better of it--for why? That fire had sobered Wheeler more than
twenty thousand temperance tracts, and all the Sons of