“I’m Hope!”
An instance of silence followed. Then, “Hope!” came a whisper, low, incredulous.
“Yes. Listen. I can save you if—if I want to. Are you listening?” Outside were many voices on the lawn under the casement.
“Yes, yes. Save me, Hope, save me!”
“I will on one condition,” whispered Dick hoarsely, hating himself, despising himself from the bottom of his heart, yet hurrying on with his words. “The bargain you made is done with; do you understand? I’ll not give up the captaincy, Taylor, but you must promise to come back as you said you would, and help all you know how. You must promise this, and you must keep your promise!”
A ladder scraped against the boards outside, rattled once, and was still. A voice called: “Hurry! He was there a moment ago; we saw him! He can’t be far away! Look, the fire’s got through!” And as the words reached him Dick heard the sound of falling mortar, of crackling woodwork, and a great glare smote his eyes and an awful heat surged toward him, making him stagger and gasp for breath. The wall dividing the room from the front apartment was at last conquered, and the flames leaped through the breach, writhing, eager for their prey. For a moment terror seized Dick, and he could only stare in horror toward the groping tongues that scorched his face and dried the breath in his nostrils. Then, stooping quickly, he lifted Taylor’s body to the sill.
[“Your promise!” he cried. “Quick!”]
“Yes, yes! For God’s sake, Hope! Anything! Oh, it’s too late, too late!”