It would be his birthday to-morrow, and the child must not lose his birthday gift, though the relentless floods were rushing on toward him also.

Close by was the cot where his baby daughter, Hilda, was at rest.

He stood between them, and could lay a hand on each.

How soundly the children slept while his heart was breaking! Dear as they had been to him, he had never realized till now how priceless beyond all words such little tender creatures could be.

He had called them into existence; and now the greatest good that could befall them was his death.