flea to flea! What is there, now, in the mere
fact of being accustomed to call another person father, and not
master, or slave, which should produce such passion as that?.... Brute
habit!.... What services can the said man render, or have rendered,
which make him worth--Here is Bran!.... What do you think of that, my
female philosopher?'

Bran sat down and watched too. The poor girl's tender hands were
bleeding from the stones, while her golden tresses rolled down over
her eyes, and entangled in her impatient fingers; but still she worked
frantically. Bran seemed suddenly to comprehend the case, rushed to the
rescue, and began digging too, with all her might.

Raphael rose with a shrug, and joined in the work. ...............

'Hang these brute instincts! They make one very hot. What was that?'

A feeble moan rose from under the stones. A human limb was uncovered.
The girl threw herself on the place, shrieking her father's name.
Raphael put her gently back and exerting his whole strength, drew out
of the ruins a stalwart elderly man, in the dress of an officer of high
rank.

He still breathed. The girl lifted up his head and covered him with
wild kisses. Raphael looked round for water; found a spring and a broken
sherd, and bathed the wounded man's temples till he opened his eyes and
showed signs of returning life.

The girl still sat by him, fondling her recovered treasure, and bathing
the grizzled face in holy tears.

'It is no business of mine,' said Raphael. 'Come, Bran!'

The girl sprang up, threw herself at his feet, kissed his hands, called
him her saviour, her deliverer, sent by God.

'Not in the least, my child. You must thank my teacher the dog, not me.'

And she took him at his word, and threw her soft arms round Bran's Deck;
and Bran understood it, and wagged her tail, and licked the gentle face
lovingly.

'Intolerably absurd, all this!' said Raphael. 'I must be going, Bran.'

'You will not leave us? You surely will not leave an old man to die
here?'

'Why not? What better thing could happen to him?'

'Nothing,' murmured the officer, who had not spoken before.

'Ah, God! he is my father!'

'Well?'

'He is my father!'

'Well?'

'You must save him! You shall, I say!' And she seized Raphael's arm in
the imperiousness of her passion.

He shrugged his shoulders: but felt, he knew not why, marvellously
inclined to obey her.

'I may as well do this as anything else, having nothing else t