took her up easily.

"Hold to my arm. There is such a crowd. And the smoke is stifling. O
Jeanne! if you should come to harm!" and almost he was tempted to drop
the Indian woman, but he knew Jeanne would not leave her.

"I am here. O Pierre, how good you are!" and the praise was like a
draught of wine to him.

The flames flashed hither and thither though there was little wind. But
the close houses fed it, and in many places there were inflammable
stores. Now and then an explosion of powder shot up in the air. Where
one fancied one's self out of danger the fire came racing on swift
wings.

"There will be only the river left," said some one.

The crowd grew more dense. Pierre felt that he could hardly get to the
gate. Then men with axes and hatchets hewed down the palisades, and, he
being near, made a tremendous effort, and pushed his way outside. There
was still crowd enough, but they soon came to a freer space, and he laid
his burthen down, standing over her that no one might tread on her.

"O Jeanne, are you safe? Thank heaven!"

Jeanne caught his hand and pressed it in both of hers.

"If we could get to Wenonah!" she said.

He picked up his burthen again, but it was very limp.

"Open the blanket a little. I was afraid to have her see the flames.
Yes, let us go on," said Jeanne, courageously.

Men and women were wringing their hands; children were screaming. The
flames crackled and roared, but out here the way was a little clearer.
They forced a path and were soon beyond the worst heat and smoke.

Wenonah's lodge was deserted. Pierre laid the poor body down, and Jeanne
bent over and kissed the strangely passive face.

"Oh, she is dead! My poor, dear Pani!"

"I did my best," said Pierre, in a beseeching tone.

"Oh, I know you did! Pierre, I should have gone crazy if I had left her
there to be devoured by the flames. But I will try--"

She bathed the face, she chafed the limp hands, she called her by every
endearing name. Ah, what would he not have given for one such sweet
little sentence!

"Pierre--your own people," she cried. "See how selfish I have been to
take you--"

"They were started before I came. Father was with them. They were going
up to the square, perhaps to the Fort. Oh, the town will all go. The
flames are everywhere. What an awful thing! Jeanne, what can I do? O
Jeanne, little one, do not weep."

For now Jeanne had given way to sobs.

There was a rushing sound in the doorway, and