nductor.

"No, they're not!" yelled Demming. "He's got him, safe an' soun'!" And
as he spoke, scorched and covered with dust, bleeding from a cut on
his cheek, but holding the Bishop in his arms, Talboys appeared at the
window. Jim snatched the Bishop, the conductor helped out Talboys, and
half a dozen hands laid hold of Demming. He heard the wild cheer that
greeted them; he heard another cheer for the men with the water, just
in sight; but he heard no more, for as they pulled him down a dozen
fiery pincers seemed tearing at his leg, and he fainted away.

* * * * *

The Bishop's daughter sat in her room, making a very pretty picture,
with her white hands clasped on her knee and her soft eyes uplifted.
She looked sad enough to please a pre-Raphaelite of sentiment. Yet her
father, whom this morning she would have declared she loved better
than any one in the world, had just been saved from a frightful death.
She knew the story of his deliverance. At last she felt that most
unexpected thrill of admiration for Talboys; but Talboys had vanished.
He was gone, it was all ended, and she owned to herself that she was
wretched. Her father was with Demming and the doctors. The poor
vagabond must hobble through life on one leg, henceforward. "If he
lived," the doctor had said, making even his existence as a cripple
problematic. Poor Demming, who had flung away his life to save her
father from suffering,--a needless, useless sacrifice, as it proved,
but touching Louise the more because of its very failure!

At this stage in her thoughts, she heard Sam, the waiter, knocking
softly, outside. Her first question was about Demming. "The
operation's ovah, miss, an' Mr. Demming he's sinkin'," answered Sam,
giving the sick man a title he had never accorded him before, "an' he
axes if you'd be so kin' 's to step in an' speak to him; he's powerful
anxious to see you."

Silently Louise rose and followed the mulatto. They had carried
Demming to the hotel; it was the nearest place, and the Bishop wished
it. His wife had been sent for, and was with him. Her timid,
tear-stained face was the first object that met Louise's eye. She sat
in a rocking-chair close to the bed, and, by sheer force of habit, was
unconsciously rocking to and fro, while she brushed the tears from her
eyes. Demming's white face and tangle of iron-gray hair lay on the
pillow near her.

He smiled feebly, seeing Louise. She did not know anyt