In another moment he had leaped down the staircase, and was at Frank's side. Baxmore, Dale, Corney, and others, followed, and, in the midst of fire and smoke, they raised their comrade in their arms and bore him to a place of safety. No one spoke, but a stretcher was quickly brought, and Frank was conveyed in a state of insensibility to the nearest hospital, where his manly form--shattered, burned, and lacerated--was laid on a bed. He breathed, although he was unconscious and evinced no sign of feeling when the surgeons examined his wounds. A messenger was despatched for Mrs Willders, and Willie remained to watch beside him while his comrades went out to continue the fight. CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. THE LAST. For many months Frank Willders lay upon his bed unable to move, and scarcely able to speak. His left leg and arm had been broken, his face and hands were burned and cut, and his once stalwart form was reduced to a mere wreck. During that long and weary time of suffering he had two nurses who never left him--who relieved each other day and night; smoothed his pillow and read to him words of comfort from God's blessed book. These were, his own mother and Emma Ward. For many weeks his life seemed to waver in the balance, but at last he began to mend. His frame, however, had been so shattered that the doctors held out little hope of his ever being anything better than a helpless cripple, so, one day, he said to Emma: "I have been thinking, Emma, of our engagement." He paused and spoke sadly--as if with great difficulty. "And I have made up my mind," he continued, "to release you." "Frank!" exclaimed Emma. "Yes, dear. No one can possibly understand what it costs me to say this, but it would be the worst kind of selfishness were I to ask you to marry a poor wretched cripple like me." "But what if I refuse to be released, Frank?" said Emma, with a smile; "you may, indeed, be a cripple, but you shall not be a wretched one if it is in my power to make you happy; and as to your being poor--what of that? I knew you were not rich when I accepted you, and you know I have a very, very small fortune of my own which will at least enable us to exist until you are able to work again." Frank looked at her in surprise, for he had not used the word _poor_ with reference to money. "Has mother, then, not told you anything about my circumstances of late?" he asked. "No, nothing; what could she tell me that I do not already know?" said Emma. Frank made no reply for a few moments, then he said with a sad yet gratified smile-- "So you refuse to be released?" "Yes, Frank, unless you _insist_ on it," replied Emma.