at what hour they expected her.

"I will be surprised if she is not here by supper-time," was the answer
he received.

At sunset he went down to the shore and strolled to and fro. But though
he thus kept watch, he did not see the boat that stole up in the fog,
floated off-shore for a moment, and then disappeared.

That night, at three o'clock Middleton Moore woke with the feeling that
he had been attacked by asthma, and that Penelope was trying to relieve
him with long smoking wisps of thick brown paper, her accustomed remedy.
Then consciousness became clearer, and he perceived that there was no
Penelope and no candle; but that there was smoke. He sprang up and
opened the door, there was smoke in the hall also. "The house is on
fire," was his thought; "how fortunate that there is no one here!" He
threw on his clothes, drew on his boots, and seizing his coat and hat,
ran down the hall. His room was on the ground-floor, he looked into the
other rooms as he passed; there was smoke, but no flame; yet he could
distinctly perceive the odor of burning wood. "It must be up-stairs," he
said to himself. He unlocked the house door, and ran across the lawn in
order to see the upper story.

Yes, there were the flames. At present only little tongues, small and
blue, creeping along under the cornice; they told him that the fire had
a strong hold within, since it had made its way outward through the main
wall. It would be useless for him to attempt to fight it, with the water
at a distance and no one to assist. The old mansion was three stories
high. "It will go like tinder," he thought.

His next idea was to save for Margaret all he could; jamming his
clerical hat tightly down on his forehead, he began to carry out
articles from the lower rooms, and pile them together at the end of the
lawn. He worked hard; he ran, he carried, he piled up; then he ran
again. He lifted and dragged ponderous weights, the perspiration stood
in drops on his face. But even then he made a mental list of the
articles he was saving: "Six parlor chairs. One centre table of
mahogany. A work-table with fringe. A secretary with inlaid top. A
sofa." In the lower rooms the smoke was blinding now. Outside, the
tongues of flame had grown into a broad yellow band.

Presently the fire burst through the roof in half a dozen places, and,
freed, rose with a leap high in the air; heretofore there had been but
little noise, now there was the sound of crackling and bur