The Fourth Watch | Page 9

hands rested in her lap, while she
gazed thoughtfully into the bright blaze. The soft light from the shaded
lamp fell athwart her wealth of dark-brown hair and fair face. Her long
lashes drooped as she leaned back in an easy-chair, and let her mind
wander to the days when she and Stephen played together as happy
children. What bright dreams were theirs, and how many fairy palaces
they erected in the far unknown future.
A movement in the cosy-corner roused her from her reverie. She
glanced quickly in that direction and saw Dan sitting bolt upright,
gazing intently upon her. Nellie smiled as she saw his look of wonder
mingled with embarrassment.
"Have you had a nice sleep?" she asked.
"Guess so," came the slow reply. "I dreamed that you and my father
were right by my side, but when I woke he was gone and only you are
with me."
"I hope you will like it here," Nellie remarked, hardly knowing what to
say. "We want to make you happy, and love you just like our own little
boy."
"I'm almost a man now," and Dan straightened up his shoulders and
proudly threw back his head. "I can hunt and work. See how strong I
am," and he placed his right hand upon the muscle of his doubled-up

left arm.
"Some day you will be as big as my father, won't you?" replied Nellie,
much amused at the sturdy lad.
"Was that your father who brought me here?"
"Yes."
"And what's his name?"
"Mr. Westmore. But most people call him 'Parson John.' You'll call him
that, too, won't you? He likes it better."
"Yes; if you want me to, I will. But, say, what's your name?"
"Oh, mine's just Nellie, Nellie Westmore. Not very pretty, is it?"
"I think it is. Do you know that was my mother's name--Nellie, I mean,
not the other one."
"And do you remember your mother, Dan?"
"Only a little. She was good and pretty, just like you."
"Tell me about her, will you? I should like to hear."
And there in the quietness of that room Dan's tongue was unloosed, and
in his own simple way he told about his mother, her death, and how he
and his father had lived together in the little log shanty. Half an hour
passed in this quiet talk, and when at length Dan ceased Nellie glanced
at the clock.
"Why, I didn't think it was so late! It is time you were in bed. You must
be tired. Come, I will show you where you are to sleep to-night, and
to-morrow we will fix up a room for your very own."
Going to the kitchen Nellie lighted a small lamp, and with this in her
hand she and Dan went up the small winding stairway.

"This is the place," and she opened a door leading to a room at the
north of the house. "The pipe from the hall stove comes up there, so it's
always quite warm. I do hope you will sleep well."
She went to the window to draw down the blind and as she did so a
light fell upon her eyes which gave her a distinct start. It was not from
the moon, for the night was dark, but from a burning building, a short
distance up the road. The flames were leaping and curling through the
roof, sending up blazing cinders in every direction.
Nellie's heart almost stopped beating as she gazed upon the scene. It
was Billy Fletcher's house! and what of her father? Was he amidst
those flames, or had he escaped?
"Dan, Dan!" she cried, turning to the lad, "Come, quick! I'm afraid that
something terrible has happened! Get on your coat and cap as quickly
as possible and let's make haste!"
It did not take them long to throw on their wraps, and to hurry forth
into the night.
To Nellie the distance seemed never-ending. Would they ever reach the
house? How the road had lengthened! and her breath came hard and
fast as she staggered forward, trying to keep pace with the more hardy
lad. The light of the fire illumined the road for some distance around,
and guided their steps. Drawing near they could discover no one about
the place. What did it all mean? Here Nellie paused and with wildly
beating heart looked at the seething mass before her, and listened to the
roar of the flames as they sent up their wild flamboyant tongues into
the air. Had her father been entrapped in that terrible furnace? She
glanced towards a barn on her right and as she did so her eyes fell upon
a sight never to be forgotten. Someone was there, kneeling in the snow
with bent head gazing intently upon some