ng of the timbers. May would have fallen, shrinking from
the embrace of the relentless flame; but the fireman caught her in his
arms and leaped to the ground just as the second ladder fell. O, then
there were cries of wild delight, and with renewed vigor the dauntless
men worked against the fire. May's friends came crowding around her; her
father clasped her in his trembling arms, with a whispered "O, May! May!
you are safe!--the old house may burn now!" and the mother shied such
tears as only thankful mothers weep.

But the noble fireman was gone; in vain Hal endeavored to gain some
particulars concerning him, from the members of the company to which he
belonged. They told him that not a single black ball had been cost
against him, although he was a stranger to them all, save the foreman
for he carried his claim to confidence in his honest face. He always
pays his dues, never shrank from duty, was kind and gentlemanly--what
more could they desire. The foreman himself was obstinately silent
concerning the history of his friend, muttering his name in such an
undertone that Hal could not understand it. On the morrow, all New York
was echoing with his praises. So brave, so rashly brave a thing had not
been done in years, though every week the noble firemen hazarded their
lives for the safety of the city.

Hal met May with a pale, a haggard face. He had thought her safe until
he saw the stranger fireman on the ladder and learned his errand. He
loved his cousin, and had suffered almost the agonies of death. May
burst into tears.

"O, Hal, what do I not owe to a fireman!"

Hal then recalled for the first time her words of the previous day.

"Do you despise the firemen now, May?"

"Despise them? God forbid! How devoted!--how self sacrificing!--how
humane!--how noble to risk one's life for an entire stranger! O, Harry,
I wish we could learn his name, that we might at least thank him. I
shall never forget the first moment when he grasped my hand; it was the
first that I had hoped to live. It seemed to me there was something of a
divinity in his eyes as I met their gaze, and I did not fear to descend
into the very flames. But I know now what it was--the noble,
self-forgetting, heaven-trusting soul shining through those eyes, which
spoke to mine and bade me fear not, but trust in God."

Hal was silent for a moment; then he said, slowly and sorrowfully:

"Every fireman could not have acted thus. O, May, will you forgive me?