they save one's life; but a priest _can't_, you
know--no, not if he saved one a thousand times over. Can he now, Ethel
darling?"

"Oh no!" said Ethel, in a little surprise. "But stop, darling. You
really must _not_ say another word--no, not so much as a whisper--for
we certainly _will_ be heard; and don't notice what I do, or the
priest either, for it's very, very important, dear. But you keep as
still as a little mouse, and wait till we are all ready."

"Well, Ethel dear, I will; but it's awfully funny to see you here--and
oh, _such_ a funny figure as you are!"

"H-s-s-s-h!"

Minnie relapsed into silence now, and Ethel withdrew near to the door,
where she stood and listened. All was still. Down stairs there was no
light and no sound. In the hall above she could see nothing, and could
not tell whether any guards were there or not.

Hawbury's room was at the back of the house, as has been said, and the
door was just at the top of the stairs. The door where Ethel was
standing was there too, and was close by the other, so that she could
listen and hear the deep breathing of the sleeper. One or two
indistinct sounds escaped him from time to time, and this was all that
broke the deep stillness.

She waited thus for nearly an hour, during which all was still, and
Minnie said not a word. Then a shadowy figure appeared near her at
Hawbury's door, and a hand touched her shoulder.

Not a word was said.

Ethel stole softly and noiselessly into Hawbury's room, where the
priest was. She could see the two windows, and the priest indicated to
her the position of the sleeper.

Slowly and cautiously she stole over toward him.

She reached the place.

She knelt by his side, and bent low over him. Her lips touched his
forehead.

The sleeper moved slightly, and murmured some words.

"All fire," he murmured; "fire--and flame. It is a furnace before us.
She must not die."

Then he sighed.

Ethel's heart beat wildly. The words that he spoke told her where his
thoughts were wandering. She bent lower; tears fell from her eyes and
upon his face.

"My darling," murmured the sleeper, "we will land here. I will cook
the fish. How pale! Don't cry, dearest."

The house was all still. Not a sound arose. Ethel still bent down and
listened for more of these words which were so sweet to her.

"Ethel!" murmured the sleeper, "where are you? Lost! lost!"

A heavy sigh escaped him, which found an echo in the heart of the
listener.