Without a word, but still sobbing, Philippa rushed from the room. He
heard her going down the back stairs and across the kitchen. When the
outer door closed behind her, he knew as well as if he had seen her
that she was running down the orchard path to her old refuge in the
June-apple-tree.

"The stars ought to be out now," thought Alec, a few minutes later,
as he slipped into his best coat. Pulling up the shade, he peered out
through the open window. "There'll not be any to-night," he added;
"looks as if it would rain."

The wind was rising. It blew the muslin curtains softly across his
face. It had driven Miss Eunice and Macklin from the porch. Alec
could hear their voices in the sitting-room. Suddenly another puff of
wind blew the hall door shut, and the cheerful sound was lost.

"It's certainly going to storm!" he exclaimed, aloud. Raising his
lamp for one more scrutiny of himself in the little mirror, he set it
on his desk, while he hunted in the closet for an umbrella.

When he reached the hotel, it was in the deepest voice that he could
summon that he asked to be shown to Mr. Humphrey Long's room. Then he
blushed, startled by its unfamiliar sound; it was so deep.

Mr. Long was busy, he was told. He had been closeted in his room for
an hour with a stranger who had taken supper with him, and had left
orders that Alec, if he came, was not to be shown up till the other
man had gone.

Alec wandered from the office into the parlour, walking round
nervously while he waited. Half an hour went by. He watched the clock
anxiously, than desperately. The minutes were slipping by so fast
that he was afraid there would be no time for his turn before the bus
started to the train. What if the other man should be taken in his
stead after all Mr. Long's fair speeches! The thought made him break
into a cold perspiration. He drummed nervously on the table beside
him with impatient fingers.

Presently, through his absorption, came the consciousness that the
bell in the town hall was clanging the fire alarm. It was an unusual
sound in the quiet little village. Noisy shouts in the next street
proclaimed that the volunteer fire brigade was dragging out the
hand-power engine and hose reel. From all directions came the sound
of hurrying feet and the cry of "Fire! fire!"

He rushed to the door and looked out. Half a mile toward the north,
he judged the distance to be, an angry glow was spreading upward. It
was in the direction of