"It's Conrad! He's coming!" cried Louise, running to the window, her excited mind still dominated by the single idea. Bancroft grasped the pistol. Looking back, she saw him point it at his own temple. Springing to his side, she seized it with both hands, crying out, "Aleck, don't do that! Don't give up! Give it to me!" His grasp relaxed and she took the weapon from his hand. "Aleck! Bancroft! Aleck!" they heard from outside, in Conrad's voice. More words followed, but through the noise of the shouting and the thunder and that rattling roar, now grown louder and nearer, they could distinguish only, "your life!" A galloping horse rushed near the window, there was a pistol shot without, and an answering shot from within. A shriek pierced the clamor, and Bancroft cried, "That was Lucy's voice!" By a flash of lightning which rent for an instant the gray darkness, they saw the horse wheel into the hill street, and saw Lucy in Conrad's arms. The pistol dropped from Louise's hand as she cried out in a passion of grief, "Oh, Aleck! Our little girl! Have I killed her?" He leaned toward her with compassionate arms. Conrad glanced over his shoulder as he wheeled his mare into the cross street, and saw the towering wall of water at their very heels. Brown Betty was staggering under her burden, but with shout and spur he drove her on up the steep incline. A grinding crash mingled with the roar of the flood, and another backward glance let him see the bank building toppling, collapsing, embosomed in the awful avalanche of water. A great wave rushed after them and swept Brown Betty from her feet. Had the mare been less sturdy of spirit they would have been carried back on its retreating current. But Conrad's persuading, encouraging calls were in her ears and she struck out bravely, swimming against the force of the waves that swirled about them and buffeted her with the debris they carried. But the waters that spread up the cross street soon lost their force, and she regained her footing. Curtis bent over Lucy, saying, "We are safe now, sweetheart!" Blood was dripping over her garments, and she lay white and still upon his arm. At last they reached the door of the Bancroft home, and Curtis carried Lucy, still unconscious, within, and went in search of Miss Dent. But the house was deserted. Alone, he ministered to the girl's needs. He located the injury, and found that a bullet, as to whose source and intention he made his own secret guess, had pierced her arm, but had left merely a flesh wound. Recovered from her swoon, he carried her up-stairs and left her to change her wet clothing while he went in search of blankets. Wrapped in these, with her arm bandaged, he left her in bed while he hastened down the hill, hoping to find news of her father and Miss Dent with which to relieve her anxiety.