him; and lo, it was the able seaman. He slept no more, but lay sighing.

The matron told him this was David Dodd, Alfred redoubled his efforts to
escape, and at last one of the keepers consented to help him off. He was
sitting on his bed full dressed, full of hope, his money in his pocket,
waiting for his liberator. Every moment he expected to hear the key in
the door.

Then came a smell of burning, and feet ran up and down. "Fire!" rang
from men's voices. Fire cracked above his head; he sprang up at the
window, and dashed his hand through it, and fell back. He sprang again,
and caught the woodwork; it gave way, and he fell back, nearly stunning
himself. The flames roared fearfully now, and David, thinking it was a
tempest, shouted appropriate orders. Alfred implored him, and got him to
kneel down with him, and prayed. He gave up all hope, and prepared to
die.

Crash! As if discharged from a cannon, came bursting through the window
a helmeted figure, rope in hand, and alighted erect and commanding on
the floor. All three faces came together, and Edward recognised his
father and Alfred Hardie. Edward clawed his rope to the bed, and hauled
up a rope ladder, crying, "Now, men, quick for your lives!" But poor
David called that deserting the ship, and demurred, till Alfred assured
him the captain had ordered it. He then touched his forelock to Edward,
and went down the ladder. Alfred followed.

They were at once overpowered with curiosity and sympathy, and had to
shake a hundred hands.

"Gently, good friends; don't part us," said Alfred.