m." A lurid flame shot at that moment from the
building before them, as if in emphasis to his words.

"He is prisoned there by a woman," cried Mr. Sylvester, pointing to the
figure whose distorted outlines was every moment becoming more and more
visible in the increasing glare. "See, she has him tight in her arms and
is pressing him against the window-sill."

The man with a terrible recoil, looked in the direction of his child,
saw the little white face with its wild expression of conscious terror,
saw the face of her who towered implacably behind it, and shrieked
appalled.

"Jacqueline!" he cried, and put his hands up before his face as if his
eyes had fallen upon an avenging spirit.

"Is that Jacqueline Japha?" asked Mr. Sylvester, dragging down the
other's hands and pointing relentlessly towards the ominous figure in
the window before him.

"Yes, or her ghost," cried the other, shuddering under a horror that
left him little control of his reason.

"Then your boy is lost," murmured Mr. Sylvester, with a vivid
remembrance of the words he had overheard. "She will never save her
rival's child, never."

The man looked at him with dazed eyes. "She shall save him," he cried,
and stretching far out of the window by which he stood, he pointed to
the bridge and called out, "Drop him, Jacqueline, don't let him burn. He
can still reach the next house if he runs. Save my darling, save him."

But the woman as if waiting for his voice, only threw back her head, and
while a bursting flame flashed up behind her, shrieked mockingly back:

"Oh I have frightened you up at last, have I? You can see me now, can
you? You can call on Jacqueline now? The brat can make you speak, can
he? Well, well, call away, I love to hear your voice. It is music to me
even in the face of death."

"My boy! my boy," was all he could gasp; "save the child, Jacqueline,
only save the child!"

But the harsh scornful laugh she returned, spoke little of saving. "He
is so dear," she hissed. "I love the offspring of my rival so much! the
child that has taken the place of my own darling, dead before ever I had
seen its innocent eyes. Oh yes, yes, I will save it, save it as my own
was saved. When I saw the puny infant in your arms the day you passed me
with _her_, I swore to be its friend, don't you remember! And I am so
much of a one that I stick by him to the death, don't you see?" And
raising him up in her arms till his whole stunted body was visible,