wheels of carts and of fire-engines. The noise and the tumult increased every moment, and it seemed to be whispered into her ear

"Fire! incendiary fire!"

An unspeakable anguish overcame her, because it seemed to her that this was her work. All at once the thought occurred, as is sometimes the case in distressing dreams, "It must be a dream!" She endeavored to wake, striving violently with the dream-spirit that held her captive; at length she conquered, and-awoke.

THE INCENDIARY FIRE.

A RED, wildly flaming glare lit up the sisters' room, which was situated within the court. The bells tolled; the alarmdrum was sounding, and amid a horrible din of human voices, one shrieking above another, the cries of "Fire! fire! Help! help! Water! throw it here! Quick! Help!-Save us!" seemed to fill the air. Hertha fancied herself still dreaming, or else delirious with the effect of the sleeping draught. But a glass of water which she hastily swallowed, and a violent blow upon the door, together with the words "Hertha! Come out! Will you be burned in your bed ?" cleared away all the mists of sleep. She opened the door. Rudolph stood there, with bewildered looks. "Come!" said he, "come! I will save you!"

"Help me to save Alma first!" said Hertha, at once calm and decided.

Rudolph obeyed. Hertha hastily flung on her sister's clothes, wrapped her in a cloak, and led her, assisted by Rudolph, into the court. Here they found old Aunt Nella and the two youngest girls trembling and crying, and almost without clothes.

A quantity of furniture, bedding and household utensils, had already been thrown into the court, which was thronged with people.

Hertha removed her sisters and aunt to as great a distance from the house as was possible in the court; and desired them to wait for her there. This done, she turned towards the burning house with a determined countenance, as if considering what must next be done. The whole of the upper portion of the house was on fire, and wild tongues of flame flashed from the windows of the second story.

"My father!" exclaimed Hertha, "where is my father?" "There!" whispered Rudolph in her ear, with a wild sort of insane joy flashing in his eyes, and pointed up to the second story of the house, "there! where the fire has just now caught! He cannot escape !"

"Wretched being! what have you done ?" whispered Hertha in reply, as a horrible idea presented itself like lightning to her soul.

"Free yourself, and-me with you!" returned Rudolph. "Come! I will save you! I will carry you through a thousand fires!" And, throwing his arms round her, he held her fast as he endeavored to force her away. But Hertha thrust him from her with all her strength, as, with a flashing glance, she exclaimed, "Hence! Begone from me! Save him, or-I will never see you more!”

At that moment a horrible crash was heard. A portion of the roof had fallen in, and volumes of thick smoke and whirling flame burst forth from the abyss which was thus made. A moment's silence and astonishment succeeded. Then was

heard a wailing and an agonized cry for help, like that of a weak old man or of a child. It seemed to proceed from that part of the house over which the roof had fallen.

Another cry answered it from the court below; a strong cry, sounding like "Yes!" full of resolution and strength, and a young girl rushed into the burning house. It was Hertha. Rudolph was about to follow her steps, but a rafter which fell from the burning roof struck him on the head. He stumbled backwards, fell, and remained for some time without consciousness.

OLD Falk had been sound asleep over his treasures, beneath his pillow, when he was awaked by the cry of fire and the tumult in the street below. The chamber in which he lay was full of a stifling smoke, which made his brain dizzy, and almost took away his breath. His first movement was to seize his cash-box, and with this in his hand, he raised himself in bed, and tried to collect his senses. He called his faithful old servant by her name, but received no answer. With dif

ficulty he raised himself to his feet, and endeavored to reach the door which opened into the dining-room. But his brain reeled, and his feet could not support him. He fell, and crept from where he fell, on hands and knees, to the dining-room door, shoving before him his precious casket. He had now reached the door, but both head and hands refused their office, when he attempted to stand upright. He called the old servant; he called Rudolph, and terror made his voice loud and strong, but no voice replied to his, and no hand unfastened the bolted door. He fancied he could hear wild shrieks of joy and derisive laughter in the room beyond, mingled with the roar and the crackling of the fire. Every moment the heat became fiercer in the chamber, and the smoke thicker. The anguish, as of death, seized on the old man's heart—and the sweat of agony burst forth from his forehead, as in the depths of his soul he seemed to hear the words:

"Thou fool, this night shall thy soul be required from thee!"

And out of the darkness which thickened around him, he seemed to see pale countenances looking forth, gloomy and threatening; gazing upon his torments. He knew them all again. They were souls which had been intrusted to him to protect and to make happy. They seemed now to ask him how he had fulfilled his duty towards them. Smoke and flames encircled him, nearer and nearer every moment. He felt himself approaching the limits of life and beyond that he saw nothing, except a something, shapeless, indefinite, threatening, horrible, more horrible for its indefiniteness than the most horrible form which reality could present; a something unknown and yet inevitable, which approached, every moment, nearer and nearer, beyond the most terrible death.

Terror again gave him strength and consciousness sufficient to raise himself up, seize the handle of the door, and also to open it. But in the selfsame moment that the door was opened the heat smote him across the face, and a horrible crackling noise, together with a surge of smoke and flame which filled the whole apartment, caused the wretched old

man to fall across the threshold, and for the first time forced a cry of lamentation and prayer out of that hard shut-up breast!

"Lord, my God! wilt thou thus suffer me to die? Lord, my God, have mercy upon me! Help, help!"

And his hands for one moment released their hold of the cash-box, that they might be clasped together in an agonized, death-agonized prayer.

Again a frightful crackling noise of burning was heard in the room. The opposite door was flung open, and there, enveloped in smoke and flame, stood, not the angel of judgment; but, like an angel of deliverance, the old man's daughter, Hertha.

He stretched towards her his trembling hands. She rushed forward to him and raised him in her arms. She never had believed herseif so strong as now, nor ever had she been so. She carried her father through the burning dining-room. His trembling hands grasped convulsively the precious money-box

"There is yet time !" said Hertha, encouraging and comforting him. "Be not afraid, my father! We soon shall be out in the open air."

The flames almost choked the assurance on her tongue, and seemed as if they would bar her onward advance. They scorched her cheeks and her clothes, but she staggered not nor hesitated.

"Courage, courage, my father!" whispered she as she bore onward her precious burden through the midst of raging fire, as calmly and resolutely as if no death-peril were at hand. She knew of a certainty, she felt it within herself, that she should save her father. The flames stretched out, hissing behind her, their serpent-like tongues; soon they no longer reached her. She went steadily down the long flight of stairs; the roof of the dining-room falling in behind her.

When Hertha descended the steps from the lobby into the court, bearing her father in her arms, the people hurraed and waved their hats. Then, and not till then, her limbs failed