love of humanity, and pure benevolence.

Two years had passed away; spring had arrived at the old chateau on
the Loire, and M. Martel, the father of little Emilie, had returned
from his voyage to Martinique. He was busy in making many necessary
repairs in his family mansion, and many workmen came from Paris for
that purpose. The night after their arrival, the chateau was
discovered to be on fire. M. Martel awoke in haste; startled by the
light of the flames, which suddenly illuminated his room, he ran to
see where the fire sprang from, and called aloud for his daughter,
whom he could not see anywhere. The spectacle that met his view quite
overwhelmed him. The story that was on fire was the place where his
daughter slept. It could be reached only from a neighboring roof, that
was almost consumed. A single beam connected one building with the
other. Notwithstanding his age and the gout, which paralyzed one of
his limbs, the poor father wished to climb up and save his daughter,
or to die with her. They held him back; he uttered fearful shrieks,
when a young man, little more than a boy, was seen on the beam, which
tottered with his weight. He walked along without fear. A profound
silence succeeded to the cries of terror. The souls of the spectators
seemed to look out of their eyes. M. Martel fell upon his knees.

The intrepid youth reached the window, and scaled it. They saw him
unroll a long rope, or rope-ladder, and fasten it securely to the iron
balcony which ornamented the window; then he disappeared.

Not a sound betrayed the anxiety of the spectators. The unknown man
returned; he held a young person supported upon his back. He mounted
the iron balcony, and suspended himself with his precious burden upon
it, for she was well secured by a strong belt. This horrible suspense
was more than M. Martel could bear. He covered his face with his
hands. But soon the universal shouts of joy told him that his daughter
was safe.

After the first moments of delight, the young girl turned to her
deliverer. An exclamation of surprise fell from their lips.

"Jacques!"

"Mademoiselle Emilie!"

Then they gazed at each other in silence by the red light of the fire.

They were no longer two pale, sad children, with haggard little faces,
already prematurely old. They had been separated ever since Emilie had
left the gymnasium, and, not living in the same place, they hardly
recognized each other. Emilie was a tall and beautiful gir