."

There was, indeed, no time to be lost. Mr. Campbell took his wife by the
arm; Henry led the girls, for the smoke was so thick that they could not
see the way. Percival and Strawberry followed. Alfred and Martin had
already gone down to get the boat ready. In a few minutes they were in
the boat, and pushed off from the shore. The boat was crowded, but,
being flat-bottom, she bore the load well. They pulled out about half a
mile into the lake, before they found themselves in a less oppressive
atmosphere. Not a word was spoken until Martin and Alfred had stopped
rowing.

"And old Malachi and John, where are they?" said Mrs. Campbell, who, now
that they were clear of the smoke, discovered that these were not in the
boat.

"Oh, never fear them, ma'am," replied Martin, "Malachi staid behind to
see if he could be of use. He knows how to take care of himself, and of
John too."

"This is an awful visitation," said Mrs. Campbell, after a pause. "Look,
the whole wood is now on fire, close down to the clearing. The house
must be burned, and we shall save nothing."

"It is the will of God, my dear wife; and if we are to be deprived of
what little wealth we have, we must not murmur, but submit with
resignation. Let us thank Heaven that our lives are preserved."

Another pause ensued; at last the silence was broken by Emma.

"There is the cow-house on fire--I see the flames bursting from the
roof."

Mrs. Campbell, whose hand was on that of her husband, squeezed it in
silence. It was the commencement of the destruction of their whole
property--all their labors and efforts had been thrown away. The winter
was coming on, and they would be houseless--what would become of them!

All this passed in her mind, but she did not speak.

At this moment the flames of the fire rose up straight to the sky.
Martin perceived it, and jumped up on his feet.

"There is a lull in the wind," said Alfred.

"Yes," replied Martin, and continued holding up his hand, "I felt a drop
of rain. Yes, it's coming; another quarter of an hour and we may be
safe."

Martin was correct in his observation; the wind had lulled for a moment,
and he had felt the drops of rain. This pause continued for about three
or four minutes, during which the cow-house burned furiously, but the
ashes and sparks were no longer hurled down on the prairie; then
suddenly the wind shifted to the south-east, with such torrents of rain
as almost to blind them. So violent was