ere she could have pure air, and then resuscitate her. Therefore I
directed the guides to take down Ethel in a chair, while I carried
down the child-angel. They had to carry her down over the lava blocks,
but I went to a part of the cone where it was all loose sand, and went
down flying. I was at the bottom a full half hour before the others.

"Then I laid her upon the loose sand; and I swear to you, Hawbury,
never in all my life have I seen such a sight. She lay there before my
eyes a picture of loveliness beyond imagination--as beautiful as a
dream--more like a child-angel than ever. Her hair clustered in golden
curls over her white brow, her little hands were folded meekly over
her breast, her lips were parted into a sweet smile, the gentle eyes
no longer looked at me with the piteous, pleading, trustful, innocent
expression which I had noticed in them before, and her hearing was
deaf to the words of love and tenderness that I lavished upon her."

"Good!" muttered Hawbury; "you talk like a novel. Drive on, old man.
I'm really beginning to feel excited."

"'The fact is," said Dacres, "I have a certain set of expressions
about the child-angel that will come whenever I begin to describe
her."

"It strikes me, though, that you are getting on pretty well. You were
speaking of 'love and tenderness.' Well?"

"Well, she lay there senseless, you know, and I gently unclasped her
hands and began to rub them. I think the motion of carrying her, and
the fresh air, had both produced a favorable effect; for I had not
rubbed her hands ten minutes when she gave a low sigh. Then I rubbed
on, and her lips moved. I bent down close so as to listen, and I heard
her say, in a low voice,

"'Am I at home?'

[Illustration: "I BENT DOWN CLOSE."]

"'Yes,' said I, gently, for I thought it was best to humor her
delirious fancy.

"Then she spoke again:

"'Is that you, papa dear?'

"'Yes, darling,' said I, in a low voice; and I kissed her in a kind of
paternal way, so as to reassure her, and comfort her, and soothe her,
and all that sort of thing, you know."

At this Hawbury burst into a shout of laughter.

"What the mischief are you making that beastly row about?" growled
Dacres.

"Excuse me, old boy. I couldn't help it. It was at the idea of your
doing the father so gravely."

"Well, am I not old enough to be her father? What else could I do? She
had such a pleading, piteous way. By Jove! Besides, how did she know
any thing a