How long this horror of expectation lasted no one knew, but at last, as if from the very mouth of hell, Tom Davis came, staggering and swaying,--his singed coat still rolled about his head, and his hands stretched blindly out.
John Ward ran towards him, and even the cripple pressed forward to take his hand.

But with unseeing eyes he stood a moment, and then fell forward on his face.

They lifted him, and carried him back into the street, away from the glare of light; there were plenty of kindly hands and pitying words, for most of the crowd had gathered about him; even the men who had brought the engine followed, for their efforts to subdue the fire were perfectly futile.
They laid him down on the stiff frozen grass by the roadside; but Molly clung so tightly about his neck, that the preacher could scarcely move her to put his hand upon Tom's heart; Helen lifted the little girl, and laid her own wet cheek against the child's.
The group of men and women stood awed and silent about the prostrate form, waiting for John to raise his head from the broad, still breast; when he lifted it, they knew all was over.
Whether the shock of the heat and tumult, coming upon the stupor of intoxication, and paralyzing the action of the heart, or whether a blow from a burning plank, had killed him, no one could know.

The poor sodden, bloated body was suddenly invested with the dignity of death; and how death had come was for a little while a secondary thought.
"He is dead," John said.

"He has died like a brave man!" He stood looking down at the body for some moments, and no one spoke.
Then, as there was a stir among those who stood near, and some one whispered that Mrs.Davis must be told, the preacher looked away from the dead man's face.
"Poor soul," he said, "poor soul!" A few light flakes of snow were beginning to fall in that still, uncertain way which heralds a storm; some touched the dead face with pure white fingers, as though they would hide the degraded body from any eyes less kind than God's.
Helen, who had gone further back into the street that Molly might not look again at her father, came to John's side.
"I will take Molly home with me," she said; "tell Mrs.Davis where she is." "Gifford is here to go with you ?" John asked, with that quick tenderness which never left him.