On gaining the shelter of the cabin, seeking the protection of the old mammy, whom she counted as her only friend, the girl, in her grief and sorrow and cruel disappointment at finding the place untenanted, had sunk into a heavy swoon on the hard floor. Doubtless her cruel rivals, following and beholding her piteous plight, had seen their opportunity and taken instant advantage of it. Roused from her unconsciousness by the crackling flames and stifling smoke, the girl was just rising from the floor, and the despair on her face as she comprehended her terrible environment would haunt John Franklin to his dying day. The great, sublime pity that rose to flood-tide in the man's tender heart submerged every thought of self in an instant. No escape seemed possible for Dainty. The inflammable log cabin was surrounded by fire, and she stood in the center of the awful glare like some pale, beautiful martyr at the stake. Franklin caught up a great bowlder from the ground and dashed it again and again against the sash till it was broken in, then, stripping off his coat, muffled his head in it, and sprang like a hero through smoke and flame to the rescue of his master's bride, catching her up in his strong arms, and bearing her, after a fierce conflict with the fire, back through the broken sash to life and safety. And not a moment too soon, for the roof of the cabin crashed in on the burning walls ere he had staggered three yards from the scene of his heroic deed, and the fierce flames, leaping higher, conveyed to two anxious watchers at Ellsworth the news that they had succeeded in their damnable crime. Franklin realized that it was best to let them hug that belief to their hearts, so all that he did afterward that night was under the veil of secrecy. He succeeded in getting an old buggy and conveying Dainty to the station, where he placed her on the midnight train and bought her a ticket for Richmond. No one but black mammy was let into the secret, and unseen by any one in the gloom of the midnight hour and in the scarcity of travel that night, she was sent on her way to her mother, Franklin saying to her earnestly: "Let me advise you, Mrs. Ellsworth, to keep close to your mother, and away from the fiendish enemies who are seeking to compass your death. I will take the best care of your husband, and may God send him recovery from his hurt, that he may restore you to your rightful position, and punish the wretches who have wronged you both!" CHAPTER XXXI. LOST! LOST! LOST! "Stop! stranger; may I speak with you?-- Ah, yes, you needn't fear-- While I whisper through the grating, I wouldn't have them hear. These jailers, if a body But chance to speak her name, They roll their eyes so savage, As if they meant to tame Some wild beast, and they scare me. Come nearer, nearer yet; Come near me till I whisper, 'Have you seen her?--seen Annette?'