"Meet us at the Hotel Washington, at my room," replied Mr. Wilde, speaking for her. "We will be there at nine o'clock in the morning. And now good-night, puss. You did bravely to-night. I'm going to see Philip safe home, so you needn't dream of accidents."
Alice kissed her father good-night. That she wanted to kiss his companion too, and that he wanted to have her, was evident from the lingering looks of both; but people were looking askance at them, and their reluctant hands were obliged to part.
That night the store of Raymond & Moore was discovered to be on fire; the flames were making rapid headway when the alarm was given; it was the hour of night when sleep is soundest, but the alarm spread, and persons were thundering at the door and windows in two minutes.
"Does any one sleep in the store?" shouted one.
"Yes! yes! young Moore himself—he has a room at the back."
"Why don't he come out then? He'll be burned alive. Burst in the doors. Let us see what has happened him."
"The fire seems to come from that part of the building. He will surely perish."
The crowd shouted, screamed, battered the doors in wild excitement—some ran round to the back, and a ladder was placed at the window of his room, which was in the second story. Light shone from that room. David Wilde, whose hotel was not far distant, mingling with others who rushed out at the alarm, as is the custom in provincial towns, was the first to place his foot upon the ladder; his strength was great, and he broke in the sash with a stroke of his fist, leaped into the building, appearing in a moment with the young man, whom he handed down to the firemen clambering up the ladder after him.
"He's nigh about suffocated with the smoke—that's all. Dash water on him, and he'll be all right presently," he cried to those who pressed about. "It's that Ben, I know—cuss me, if I don't believe the boy's crazy," he muttered to himself.