The fire had been at work overhead, running from end to end of the mill
roof. Now it had worked its way downward, and that part of the ceiling
above the stairway was a seething and roaring mass of flames and smoke.
It looked as if at any instant a portion of the roof might cave in,
burying the whole stairway beneath it.

Should he risk a descent? Deck's heart almost stood still as he asked
himself the question. He was brave, even to rashness; but this was very
much like courting death. For the moment he thought of home, his mother,
and of sweet Kate Belthorpe. Should he risk being torn from all that was
dear to him?

Another booming decided him. The fire had come down behind him, cutting
off his retreat. He must go forward or give up the struggle. With
another silent prayer that Heaven might guide and protect him, he
grasped his burden closer and advanced to the top of the stairs. Soon he
was hurrying downward as rapidly as the weight on his shoulder would
permit. Five steps were passed and he paused.

A blazing board had come down directly in front of him. As he stood
still, another came down, striking him on the unoccupied shoulder. He
waited no longer, but, calculating as well as he could, made a clean
leap to the bottom.

Luckily he landed squarely, and, though his burden made him stagger, he
did not fall. As he started for the open doorway, there was a crash, and
the stairway became a thing of the past. The young major had missed
death by less than five seconds.

How he gained the open air, Deck could not tell afterward. The smoke was
so thick he could not see, and breathing was out of the question. "Out
there--help me!" he yelled, when he saw the light, and then Artie and
several others ran to his aid. Two cavalrymen took the unconscious
Confederate and laid him on the grass.

"Deck, are you hurt?" asked the young captain, anxiously, seeing how
pale the young officer was. The major could not stand upright.

"Hurt? No--I'm--I'm--all right," was the answer; and then the gallant
youth fainted dead away.

With the wounded, he was carried on a stretcher to the nearest
ambulance. Artie was permitted to go along, and Captain Abbey took
command of the battalion. The Confederate was placed among the wounded
of his own company.

Colonel Lyon was not near the mill, and it was not until night that he
heard Deck was sick. The major did not recover consciousness for an
hour, and then it was found he had a fever. That