Marchand's victim.

"A man in there, is there?" exclaimed Dennis. "Well, he's got to be
saved." He made a rush for the door. Men called to him to come back,
that the roof would fall in. In the smoking doorway he looked back.
"What floor?" he shouted.

From the window opposite, her fat old face lighted by the blazing roof,
Madame Thibadeau called out, "Second floor! It's the second floor!"

In an instant Dennis was lost in the smoke and flame.

One, two, three minutes passed. A fire-engine arrived; in a moment the
hose was paid out to the river near by, and as a fireman seized the
nozzle to train the water upon the building the roof fell in with a
crash. At that instant Dennis stumbled out of the house, blind with
smoke, his clothes aflame, carrying a man in his arms. A score of hands
caught them, coats smothered Dennis's burning clothes, and the man he had
rescued was carried across the street and laid upon the pavement.

"Great glory, it's Marchand! It's Felix Marchand!" someone shouted.

"Is he dead?" asked another.

"Dead drunk," was the comment of Osterhaut, who had helped to carry him
across the street.

At that moment Ingolby appeared on the scene. "What's all this?" he
asked. Then he recognized Marchand. "He's been playing with fire
again," he added sarcastically, and there was a look of contempt on his