is not it ought to be) which embraces much deep truth. The
way in which David Boone set personal danger at defiance, and seemed to
regard suffocation by smoke or roasting by fire as terminations of life
worth courting, was astounding, and rendered his friends and neighbours
dumb with amazement.

David was now on the staircase among the firemen, fighting his way up
through fire and smoke, for the purpose of saving Miss Tippet, until he
was hauled forcibly back by Dale or Baxmore--who were in the thick of it
as usual. Anon, down in the basement, knee-deep in water, searching for
the bodies of his two shopmen, both of whom were standing comfortably
outside, looking on. Presently he was on the leads of the adjoining
house, directing, commanding, exhorting, entreating, the firemen there
to point their branch at the "blue bedroom." Soon after he was in the
street, tearing his hair, shouting that it was all his fault; that he
did it, and that it would kill him.

Before the fire was put out, poor Boone's eyelashes and whiskers were
singed off; little hair was left on his head, and that little was short
and frizzled. His clothes, of course, were completely soaked; in
addition to which, they were torn almost to shreds, and some of his skin
was in the same condition. At last he had to be forcibly taken in
charge, and kept shut up in an adjoining house, from the window of which
he watched the destruction of his property and his hopes.

Almost superhuman efforts had been made by the firemen to save the
house. Many a house in London had they saved that year, partially or
wholly; as, indeed, is the case every year, and many thousands of
pounds' worth of property had they rescued; but this case utterly defied
them. So well had the plot been laid; so thoroughly had the
combustibles been distributed and lubricated with inflammable liquids,
that all the engines in the metropolis would have failed to extinguish
that fire.

David Boone knew this, and he groaned in spirit. The firemen knew it
not, and they worked like heroes.

There was a shout at last among the firemen to "look out!" It was
feared one of the partition walls was coming down, so each man beat a
hasty retreat. They swarmed out at the door like bees, and were all
safe when the wall fell--all safe, but one, Joe Corney, who, being a
reckless man, took things too leisurely, and was knocked down by the
falling bricks.

Moxey and Williams ran back, and carried him