shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had
stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf.

"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter,
turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries
proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships
it had undergone. "Poor little creature!" he muttered, pressing it
tenderly to his breast, as he grasped the rope and clambered up to the
window: "if thou hast, indeed, lost both thy parents, as that terrible
man said just now, thou art not wholly friendless and deserted, for I
myself will be a father to thee! And in memory of this dreadful night,
and the death from which I have, been the means of preserving thee, thou
shalt bear the name of THAMES DARRELL."

No sooner had Wood crept through the window, than nature gave way, and
he fainted. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a
blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. His
first inquiries were concerning the child, and he was delighted to find
that it still lived and was doing well. Every care had been taken of it,
as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he
had sought shelter.

About noon, next day, he was able to move; and the gale having abated,
he set out homewards with his little charge.

The city presented a terrible picture of devastation. London Bridge had
suffered a degree less than most places. But it was almost choked up
with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered
tiles. The houses overhung in a frightful manner, and looked as if the
next gust would precipitate them into the river. With great difficulty,