Hardly had the four reached the street when a man's voice called, "Stop, ladies, for a moment." As they halted, the man, whose outline they could barely distinguish, overtook them. "You are the American ladies whose doors I tried to break open a little while ago. I would have helped you further, but I had to return immediately to my sister, who has been ill, and who is now in a neighbor's house. I have been anxious about you, for you are strangers. Have you plans, or will you permit me to make a suggestion?" "We shall be only too happy to hear your suggestion, Mr.--" "Taunton," quickly rejoined the stranger, as Mrs. Redmond paused, adding, "I would suggest that you come with me to the house where I have taken my sister, and I may say that I have been asked to bring you back with me. The house is large, and you can all get a good night's rest." It is needless to say that Mr. Taunton's invitation was gratefully accepted, and soon the four found themselves in a warm room, where a hospitable little hostess bustled about, offering them tea, and bread and butter, though after all it wasn't a meal-time. "She's very good," murmured Martine to Amy, "not to mention how queer we look. For my own part, I haven't dared look a mirror in the face, though there are two in the room. How much has happened in the last hour!--for it is only a little more than an hour since we knew of the fire; that is, since I smelled smoke." "I hope that it wasn't long enough for you and Priscilla to catch cold. We shall never forget how chilly the air of an August midnight can be." "Oh, I am all right," responded Martine. And then, as if to disprove her own words, she sneezed violently. "Why did you go back to your room, Martine? It was a dangerous thing to do. You brought nothing out with you but that little bag." "Oh, I had barely time to get that. The room was so hot and smoky that I quite lost my head, yet I got what I especially went for;" and she opened the little bag and drew from it a small velvet case. "Your diamond!" cried Amy. "Ah, Martine, how foolish to have had it with you!" "No, Amy, not my diamond pin;" and snapping a spring she disclosed the miniature of her mother. "That is more to me than ten diamond pins. I had barely time to snatch it from the bureau and pick up this bag." "Then you left the pin behind!" "No, child, no; it is safely hung around my neck. But one of my rings was on the cushion, and it will delight Priscilla's heart to know that I did not save a single brush or silver-topped bottle. It will be rather hard for papa, for he'll have to replace them all next Christmas. But I do wish that I had my hat and my suit case. Until we overtake our trunks at Halifax we can't make ourselves perfectly respectable." "But still," rejoined Amy, "I am thankful that we have a place where we can sleep to-night--and mamma is beckoning us, so let us follow."