rain. The details were
obliterated in the vast agony of the thing. He knew that he fought as
he had never fought before; that he stumbled again and again in the
fire-muck; that he was burned, and blinded, and his brain was sick. But
he held to St. Pierre, with his twisted, broken leg, knowing that he
would die if he dropped him into the flesh-devouring heat of the
smoldering debris under his feet. Toward the end he was conscious of
St. Pierre's moaning, and then of his voice speaking to him. After that
he came to the water and fell down in the edge of it with St. Pierre,
and inside his head everything went as black as the world over which
the fire had swept.

He did not know how terribly he was hurt. He did not feel pain after
the darkness came. Yet he sensed certain things. He knew that over him
St. Pierre was shouting. For days, it seemed, he could hear nothing but
that great voice bellowing away in the interminable distance. And then
came other voices, now near and now far, and after that he seemed to
rise up and float among the clouds, and for a long time he heard no
other sound and felt no movement, but was like one dead.

Something soft and gentle and comforting roused him out of darkness. He
did not move, he did not open his eyes for a time, while reason came to
him. He heard a voice, and it was a woman's voice, speaking softly, and
another voice replied to it. Then he heard gentle movement, and some
one went away from him, and he heard the almost noiseless opening and
closing of a door. A very little he began to see. He was in a room,
with a patch of sunlight on the wall. Also, he was in a bed. And that
gentle, comforting hand was still stroking his forehead and hair, light
as thistledown. He opened his eyes wider and looked up. His heart gave
a great throb. Over him was a glorious, tender face smiling like an
angel into his widening eyes. And it was the face of Carmin Fanchet!

He made an effort, as if to speak.

"Hush," she whispered, and he saw something shining in her eyes, and
something wet fell upon his face. "She is returning--and I will go. For
three days and nights she has not slept, and she must be the first to
see you open your eyes."

She bent over him. Her soft lips touched his forehead, and he heard her
sobbing breath.

"God bless you, David Carrigan!"

Then she was going to the door, and his eyes dropped shut again. He
began to experience pain now, a hot, consuming pain all over him, and