He threw off his jacket and boots, plunged into the stream, swam ashore, and ran along the bank, keeping pace with the skiff. Both reached the house at the same instant, they were gone perhaps three minutes, and came forth again, Ben carrying the trunk upon his shoulder. One instant they paused to look upon the wall of fire behind them; but the heat was intolerable.
"These falling bits will sartainly set your clothing a-blaze," said Ben, hurrying the young girl away, who would fain have lingered yet around the home which had grown dear to her with her growth—already the garden was withering, and the vines she had planted were drooping before their impending ruin.
"My dress is woolen," she said; "but I will go. Oh, Ben, this is terrible, is it not?"
"Yes, Miss Alice, but if ye get away safe now, you may thank yer stars. I don't believe the canoe 'll hold you and the trunk both," he remarked, as he deposited his precious (to Alice) burden in the bottom of it.
"Yes it will—but you, Ben?"
"Oh, I ain't of as much consequence as a trunk," he replied, bitterly. "Take car' of yourself—don't mind me."
"I shan't stir from this spot until you come with me, Ben. So get into the boat, quick."
"Get in yourself, Miss Alice, and make good time. You'll be baked like a brick, if yer don't get out of this soon. I'm going to swim 'long side. What's a mile or two, swimmin' down stream?" He threw himself in the water, and struck out, as he spoke.
She kept beside of him, refusing to go faster than he, that she might give him aid, in case he became exhausted; the river at this spot was over a mile in width, and it would have been difficult for him, tired and heated as he already was, to make the opposite shore.