ayed
and, as the noise of its progress died away, the firing ceased. Roddy
left the wheel, and, stooping, took Inez in his arms. Behind them the
city was a blaze of light, and the sky above it was painted crimson.
From the fortress, rockets, hissing and roaring, signalled to the
barracks; from the gun-boat, the quick-firing guns were stabbing the
darkness with swift, vindictive flashes. In different parts of the
city incendiary fires had started and were burning sullenly, sending
up into the still night air great, twisting columns of sparks. The
rattle of musketry was incessant.

With his arm about her and her face pressed to his, Inez watched the
spectacle unseeingly. For the moment it possessed no significance.
And for Roddy, as he held her close, it seemed that she must feel his
heart beating with happiness. He had never dared to hope that such a
time would come, when they would be alone together, when it would be
his right to protect and guard her, when, again and again, he might
try to tell her how he loved her. Like one coming from a dream, Inez
stirred and drew away.

"Where are we going?" she whispered.

"We're going to the tunnel to save your father," answered Roddy.

The girl gave a little sigh of content and again sank back into the
shelter of his arm.

They passed the fortress, giving it a wide berth, and turned in toward
the shore. The city now lay far to the right, and the clamor of the
conflict came to them but faintly.

"Tell me," said Roddy, "why did you come to the wharf?" He seemed to
be speaking of something that had happened far back in the past, of a
matter which he remembered as having once been of vivid importance,
but which now was of consequence only in that it concerned her.

Reluctantly Inez broke the silence that had enveloped them.

"They came to the house and arrested Pedro," she said. To her also
the subject seemed to be of but little interest. She spoke as though
it were only with an effort she could recall the details. "I knew you
needed him to convince father you were friends. So, as he could not
come, I came. Did I do right?"

"Whatever you do is right," answered Roddy. "We might as well start
life with that proposition as a fixed fact."

"And do you want me with you now?" whispered the girl.

"Do I want you with me!" Roddy exclaimed, in mock exasperation. "Don't
provoke me!" he cried. "I am trying," he protested, "to do my duty,
while what I would like to do is to point