"Mine, all mine at last," he said, and the invisible angels hovering about his pillow recorded the nuptials in that book the entries in which can never be altered for earthly and dishonest purposes.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
SPOILS! SPOILS!
Christmas came, the day passing quiet and gloomy at the Alden home. The injured man grew worse and was delirious—living over the awful scenes of the fire many times during the day, and starting from his slumbers, crying out:
"Yes, they are saved, they are saved!" then he would moan, "Oh, how the fire burns my flesh! Take that big timber off my back! Must I perish? See, the iron door opens, the people are free—and I have saved them!"
For six days he was delirious, but just one week after the disaster he opened his eyes, looked about him, and in a weak voice said:
"Give me water."
His sister, standing near, raised a glass to his lips while he drank with a relish that he had not displayed since the disaster, his eye flashing with a little of its natural fire; and his sister felt there was really a change for the better. Full of hope, she could scarcely realize that the good symptoms were real.