by the deep emotion that
filled her, so that, in that moment she looked very beautiful.

He led her to the room he had indicated, and glancing around to see
that the towels were in the place, he said, "what is your name?"

"In English?" she asked. Then without waiting for him to reply, added:
"Rose!"

"Mine is George!" he returned. Then with a final word of: "Sleep, if
you can!" he left her.

When the hanging over the door-way had dropped behind him, and he was
alone in his little living room, he tried to think out the many
wonderful things that had happened since he had sallied forth at
half-past six that morning.

Taking his note-book from his breast, he tore the sheaf of short-hand
notes he had already made, along the perforated line, and began to
compose his message for the "Courier" in the code that had been
previously arranged.

It took him an hour and a half to complete the work, as writing in
code, took longer than the ordinary method.

By the time he had finished, it was past noon, and he wondered at the
stillness of the house. Once more he made a tour of the other part of
the premises, calling the names of both the man and woman of the house.

They were still absent. It was very mysterious! He could not know
that they were among the scores of those who had been trampled to death
in the horrible darkness on the Temple mount that morning.

Passing back to his room, he listened at the hanging over that inner
room, where the rescued girl lay. He could hear her softly, regularly
snoring, and decided to get his message off while she slept.

He was a little dubious about leaving the house door unlocked, yet
feared to lock it lest the man and wife should return.

He was gone an hour. Both going and returning, he had been struck with
the general desertedness of the streets, but realized that in all
probability every one would be resting after the scenes of the morning.

Entering the house he found it exactly as he had left it, and beginning
to feel hungry, he hunted about for the wherewithal to make a meal.

Deciding that his _protege_ might soon be stirring, he carried into his
living-room all the materials for a meal. When he had spread his
table, he remembered the clothes for his _protege_ (he had spread them
in the sun to dry, having found them where she had dropped them, by his
instructions, out of the window.)

Passing quietly back to the hanging between the two rooms, he listened
again.