CHAPTER XVII.

But when I see the fair wide brow
Half shaded by the silken hair,

That never looked so fair as now

When life and health were laughing there,

I wonder not that grief should swell

So wildly upward in the breast,

And that strong passion once rebel
That need not, cannot be suppressed.

ALL hands were now directed to save the small cottage belonging to the Widow Dacre, but with very little effect, for the wind which came down from the hills with furious blasts seemed to mock at every effort to extinguish the fire,

while it fanned the faintest spark into a flame, and then spread it with wonnderful rapidity. But it was not for the sake of the tiny cottage, which its owner had long since vacated, they all labored so zealously, but because it now seemed a link between the ruined village and the dwelling which all looked upon with interest. Romance seemed to have cast a kind of charm round the little family, to which Mabel belonged.

Upon whose threshold had Mabel's light step been unwelcome? And who was not ready to protect the roof that sheltered her from danger?

Now, as all eyes watched the building, it was, for the first time, perceived, that no one stirred within; the shutters were fast closed, and there was not the slightest sign that the general alarm Lad reached it

"Is it possible," said the stranger, turning to Clair," that amidst all this din and confusion they should sleep on and hear nothing?"

"I will go and try to get in," said Clair.

"And I," said the stranger, as they walked both together to the door and rung the bell, at first gently, but more loudly as they heard no one moving.

Presently a shuffling step was heard, and a somewhat sulky "Who's there?" from

within.

"It is I," said Clair, " open the door, for the village is on fire."

The door was immediately thrown open and old John the gardener staggered back as he perceived the red sky, which glared above him. on all sides.

"The ladies!" he exclaimed.

"We will take care of them, only go and dress, and then come and help us," said Clair.

John speedily availed himself of this permission, and then, with considerable coolness, he hurried to the stable after his mistress's Bath chair, which had not seen the light for many a month.

Meanwhile, the two gentleman hurried up stairs; they had, however, scarcely reached the

landing-place, when they heard a shout from the outside, which made the stranger spring back down the stairs to ascertain the cause, begging Clair to remain. The latter, accordingly, began to search for the bed-rooms inhabited by Mrs. Lesly and her daughter. Having hastily tapped at one, and receiving no answer, he did not hesitate to open it. Here a night lamp was dimly burning, and, when he looked at the heavy oak shutters, and the closely drawn curtains, and perceived the stillness within, he no longer wondered that they slept. This was Mrs. Lesly's room, and, on a bed at her feet, reposed the faithful servant Betsy, and so soundly that Clair had to shake her with some little violence before he could awaken her. Her expressions of terror soon roused Mrs. Lesly, to whom Clair explained as much as he thought proper, begging her to get up and allow him to take her from the house, should it be necessary, saying he would wait for her on the outside.

She needed no second bidding, but suffered the affrighted Betsy to assist her to rise. Clair leit the room with the intention of conveying the same warning to Mabel, but, before he could do so, the stranger hurried to him, and, seizing him by the hand, he wrung it wildly, saying,

"That shout told that the back part of the house is already burning. Will you take care of Mrs. Lesly and her maid? promise me not to leave them till they are safe, and I hope I can manage the rest."

There was one other duty which Clair would willingly have chosen, but there was now no time for parley, and the eager pressure of the hand, which the stranger returned for his promise, made him no longer regret it. But, as he leant against the wall of the passage, waiting for Mrs. Lesly, his countenance became more and more haggard in appearance, and his bloodless lips and heavy eyes rather spoke of mental pain than the fatigue of bodily exertion.