A shout, from those who had feared to follow, welcomed them as they appeared; and the stranger staggered through the ruins spread around him, to the group who anxiously waited them. He singled out Mr. Ware, and laid his fainting burden at his feet, then, bending his knee in Eastern fashion before him, he said-- "Father, judge who hath done this, for he is a brother, though a sinful one." A murmur of horror passed through the crowd; and Mr. Ware, kneeling by the side of the hated Rogers, tried to reanimate him. "He is not dead, sir," said he, in a low voice; "he will live, I trust, if we can once revive him." "He will have time to repent, I hope," said old Giles; "bring some water to moisten his lips, and let us clear the blood from his mouth." "Will you watch by him, sir?" said the stranger, again addressing Mr. Ware, "he is too sinful to die; and if he wakes, you can give him comfort." "I will," said he, "I will take care of him." The stranger covered his face with his hands, as if anxious either to shut out the scenes which had terrified him, or to collect his thoughts. Then rose a hasty cry, "Widow Dacre's--the fire has taken it--there are sparks on the roof." He started, as if with sudden pain, and then ran wildly towards the hill, at the bottom of which lay the widow's cottage. On its height the church looked down in its holy stillness, and between both lay the picturesque thatched cottage belonging to Mrs. Lesly. CHAPTER XVII. But when I see the fair wide brow Half shaded by the silken hair, That never looked so fair as now When life and health were laughing there, I wonder not that grief should swell So wildly upward in the breast, And that strong passion once rebel That need not, cannot be suppressed. All hands were now directed to save the small cottage belonging to the Widow Dacre, but with very little effect, for the wind which came down from the hills with furious blasts seemed to mock at every effort to extinguish the fire, while it fanned the faintest spark into a flame, and then spread it with wonderful rapidity. But it was not for the sake of the tiny cottage, which its owner had long since vacated, they all labored so zealously, but because it now seemed a link between the ruined village and the dwelling which all looked upon with interest. Romance seemed to have cast a kind of charm round the little family, to which Mabel belonged. Upon whose threshold had Mabel's light step been unwelcome? And who was not ready to protect the roof that sheltered her from danger? Now, as all eyes watched the building, it was, for the first time, perceived, that no one stirred within; the shutters were fast closed, and there was not the slightest sign that the general alarm had reached it. "Is it possible," said the stranger, turning to Clair, "that amidst all this din and confusion they should sleep on and hear nothing?"