He awoke to the immediate necessity for her to get out of her wet clothes, and gently lifting her until she stood upon her feet, he said: "Can you stand alone, do you think?" "Let go your hold," she answered, "and I will see." Very reluctantly George released his hold of her, though his eyes were anxious, and his hands were stretched out within reach of her, lest she should give way. She put her hand to her head, as she said: "I feel a little dizzy, but that will pass off." "When did you eat anything last?" he inquired. "Oh, I had a good breakfast, before I started out this morning. If I could lie down somewhere,--and sleep--for I slept but badly last night--I think I should soon be all right." He explained that he could not find the man or wife of the house, but, (pointing to a room beyond) he said: "There is a bed there, and there are female clothes hanging in a recess (they were there when I occupied the room) go in there, dear child." She seemed but a child, to him, so sweet and innocent was her face. "Divest yourself of every rag of your wet clothes (drop them out of the window, and I will gather them up, and get them dry for you) chafe yourself with the towels you will find in the room, then wrap yourself in one of the sheets or rugs, and try and sleep." "Ah, kind friend! How good you are!" she said, softly, a deep sense of what she owed him, (for he had doubtless, she realized, saved her life) moving her heart strangely. With the shy, tender grace of a child, she caught his hand and kissed it, leaving two great warm teardrops upon it, as she cried: "May God reward you! You saved my life!" Her long silken lashes held great quivering drops upon them. Her hair--what swathes there were of it--had become loosened, and hung about her in long, thick, wet tresses. Her cheeks were warmed to a vivid tinting by the cordial, the excitement by the deep emotion that filled her, so that, in that moment she looked very beautiful. He led her to the room he had indicated, and glancing around to see that the towels were in the place, he said, "what is your name?" "In English?" she asked. Then without waiting for him to reply, added: "Rose!" "Mine is George!" he returned. Then with a final word of: "Sleep, if you can!" he left her. When the hanging over the door-way had dropped behind him, and he was alone in his little living room, he tried to think out the many wonderful things that had happened since he had sallied forth at half-past six that morning. Taking his note-book from his breast, he tore the sheaf of short-hand notes he had already made, along the perforated line, and began to compose his message for the "Courier" in the code that had been previously arranged. It took him an hour and a half to complete the work, as writing in code, took longer than the ordinary method.