Antonio was in the ante-room. The door was open and he saw the accident. He sprang to Mrs. Mildmay's assistance. He did not attempt to avoid the flames, but rushed directly through the pool of blazing oil, burning his feet and ankles horribly. He seized Mrs. Mildmay, and tore away her dress with his bare hands. He had nothing to wrap around her, for he was wearing no coat at the time, but he clasped her close in his arms, and smothered the flames that had caught her petticoat by pressing her against his bosom. She escaped with nothing worse than a slightly burned finger, but Antonio's hands, arms, feet and ankles were burned to the bone. By this time Mr. Mildmay, who had been in his study, heard his wife calling for help, and made his appearance. Antonio asked the _parona's_ permission to sit down for a moment, and then fainted away. The cook was called and sent for the doctor. She met Antonio's brother in the _calle_, close to the house, and sent him upstairs. With his help Antonio was carried to Mrs. Mildmay's bedroom, and laid on the bed, and before the doctor came the wounded man had regained consciousness, and had thanked the Mildmays for their care of him. The doctor, after dressing the wounds, said that the man might very probably recover. But Antonio announced that he was about to die, on hearing which decision the doctor changed his mind. "When a Venetian of the lower class gives up, and says he is going to die," said the doctor, "no medical science can save him. Your man will die before morning, if he has really lost all hope. There! he says he wants a priest; you might as well order his coffin at once. I can do nothing to save him." "_Paron_," said Antonio, presently, "would you, in your great goodness, permit my wife to come to see me for the last time?" "You shall have anything you want, my brave fellow," replied Mr. Mildmay, "but I thought your wife was dead." "I was mistaken about it," said Antonio. "It was her twin sister who died, and they were so much alike that their own mother could not tell them apart. No, my poor wife is still alive. May she bring my little boy with her?" "Tell her to bring anybody you may want to see," replied his master, "but I certainly thought your little boy was buried last January." "The _paron_ is mistaken, if he will pardon me for saying so. It was my little girl who died. Was it not so, Spiro?" Spiro confirmed Antonio's statement, like a loyal brother who is afraid of no fraternal lie, and Mr. Mildmay had not the heart to trouble the sufferer with any more suggested doubts of his veracity. Antonio was duly confessed, and received absolution. "Did you tell the father about the candles?" whispered Spiro after the priest had gone. "I thought," answered Antonio, "that perhaps the Madonna had not yet noticed that they were not wax, and that it would not be wise to tell her of it, just as one is going where she is."