"You are mistaken, Mr. Sullivan; I have done nothing which places that young lady's friends under a particle of obligation to me."
"Did you not save her life?"
"Yes; but nothing was further from my intention."
Willie smiled. "It could have been no accident, I think, which led you to risk your own life to rescue a fellow-passenger."
"It was no accident which led to Miss Clinton's safety from destruction. I am convinced of that. But you must not thank me; it is due to another than myself that she does not now sleep in death."
"May I ask to whom you refer?"
"I refer to a dear and noble girl, to whom I swam in that burning wreck to save. Her veil had been agreed upon as a signal between us. That veil, carefully thrown over the head of Miss Clinton, whom I found clinging to the spot assigned to—to her whom I was seeking, deceived me, and I bore in safety to the shore the burden which I had ignorantly seized from the gaping waters, leaving my own darling, who had offered her life as a sacrifice to——"
"Oh, not to die!" exclaimed Willie.
"No; to be saved by a miracle. Go thank her for Miss Clinton's life."
"I thank God," said Willie, with fervour, "that the horrors of such scenes of destruction are half redeemed by heroism like that."