"I don't wonder, my boy," said Mr. Houghton, interpreting his thoughts. "Go and speak to her." George approached timidly, and said, "Miss Bodine." She started, raised her head, and began to wipe her eyes. "I--I--Well, I don't know what to say to make you understand how my father and I have sympathized with your brave--Well, you were so kind and patient with that poor woman. I wish I could do something for _you_, and I will," and he hastened away. She called, "I don't need anything, Mr. Houghton. Indeed I do not. It would only distress me--" But he was out of hearing. "Oh," she moaned again on her father's shoulder, "why will he take risks?" It was evident that Mr. Houghton shared her anxiety, for he divined his son's purpose, and looked with troubled face for his return. He soon came back carrying another mattress, pillows and blankets. Sam, compelled to leave the horses, followed with a basket of provisions. Ella was clothed in little besides a light wrapper, and had shivered more than once in the night air. George tried to induce her and Mrs. Bodine to accept of the mattress, but they asked as a favor that it might be placed under Mrs. Hunter. He readily complied, saying he would get another for them. At this moment came the ominous groan of the severe shock which occurred at about half-past two o'clock Wednesday morning. To the terrified people it was like the growl of some ravening beast rushing upon them, and a long wailing cry blended with the horrible roar as it swept under and over them, then died away in the northwest. "Oh, Mr. Houghton," sobbed Ella, when her voice could be heard, "please don't go away--please don't go near a building again." "George," added his father, almost sternly, "not with my consent will you leave me again till we learn more definitely what our fate is to be. If you were in the house when this shock occurred, you might have perished. It is no longer a question of more or less comfort." "I reckon not," said Mrs. Bodine. "It's a question of ever seeing the sun rise again. We may as well speak out what is in our minds, and get ready for a city not made with hands." "I wish we were all as ready to go as you are, Cousin Sophy," Ella whispered. "Well, my dear, I've more property in that city than in this wrecked town, and 'where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.'" Then she added, "You'll be spared, dear child. You and your knight will see many happy years. God bless you both." "Oh, cousin! it is such a comfort, even at this awful time, to see him, to know he is near, to think he came for--for us!" "For you, dear little goose. He'd face earthquakes, volcanoes, tornadoes, cyclones, and even his father before this well-deserved shaking converted him, for your sake." "Cousin," whispered the girl, "I'm so glad. Is it wrong to be glad at such a time?"