"How do you know my daughter's on the island?" Randall asked. Then the expression upon his face suddenly changed, and a new energy possessed him. He struggled to his knees and faced the young man. "Are you John Hampton?" he demanded. "Are you the man who lured my daughter away from home?"

"I am John Hampton," was the quiet reply. "But I didn't lure your daughter away from home. She left of her own free will."

"You lie," Randall shouted. "You cursed villain, I'll make you pay for your deviltry. You brought all this trouble upon me, and I'll, I'll----"

"There, now, don't get so excited, sir," John warned. "You need all your strength, so if you don't make an effort to save yourself, you won't have a chance to do anything to me."

"Get out of my sight," Randall shouted. "I won't be saved by a thing like you. I'd rather die first."

To try to reason with this angry and half distracted man John realised would be useless. And besides, there was not time. The roar of the fire was becoming louder, and the flames were about to burst through the forest.

Already to their left and right vast columns of smoke were pouring above the tree tops, and fiery tongues were licking among the bushes along the borders of the plains. The situation was desperate. He looked, and his eyes rested upon a pile of large boulders several yards away. These were heaped upon a great flat portion of rock, whose surface was devoid of the least vestige of vegetation. To get the injured man there was his only hope. But when he offered the suggestion, Randall refused it with scorn.

"That place is worse than this," he declared. "Here it will be over in a few minutes, but there I shall slowly roast to death."

"No, you won't," John replied, at the same time laying his hand upon Randall's shoulder. "Come, trust me."

"Leave me alone," was the angry retort. "I'd sooner trust a snake than you. Get out of my sight."

John now knew that he had to take stern measures and act at once, for there was not a minute to lose. Stooping, he caught the helpless man in a firm grip, lifted him from the ground, and staggered through the bushes. Randall was an unwieldy weight, and he struggled and cursed like a madman. At times John thought he would be forced to drop his burden and give up the attempt. But the menacing danger nerved him to almost super-human effort, and at last he stumbled with his load upon the rocky surface. Dragging Randall to the centre of the stone, he left him sprawling there, and sprang at once to the nearest clump of bushes. Drawing forth a match from his vest pocket, he struck it and touched it to a dry bit of fine gra.s.s. A small flame immediately shot up, which soon spread, and raced out among the bushes. The same was done in several other places, and in a few minutes the two men were in the centre of a ring of fire, which enlarged and increased in fury as the flames seized upon the dry material on all sides. The heat now was intense, and the smoke was blinding and suffocating.

During the whole of this performance Randall was yelling frantically to Hampton, asking what he meant by bringing the fire nearer. John, however, made no reply until his work was done. Then he staggered to the excited man's side, and without a word lifted him again in his arms, carried him to the pile of boulders, and laid him down between two big rocks nearest to the lake. Taking off his own coat, he spread it over Randall's head, and part of his body, commanding him at the same time to keep still, and stop struggling. This warning was given none too soon for the next instant a terrific roar rent the air, as the fire burst from the forest and flung itself upon the plains. Nothing could John now see, for the smoke was thicker than ever. The heat, too, was becoming more intense, and for relief he dropped upon his knees and covered his head with a portion of the coat which he had placed over Randall. This was only a brief respite, however, for burning brands were now falling everywhere, and one lighted almost on top of them. Then others followed in quick succession, so he was forced to stand on guard above the injured man. Desperately he fought the shower of flaming death, hurling aside each ember ere it could alight upon Randall's body. The heat now was almost unbearable. His hands and face were scorched, and his hair singed. How much longer could he fight the demon? he wondered. Would its hot breath lessen, or would it increase and devour him? The roar of the fire was appalling.

On all sides it was raging and so dense was the smoke, and so overcome was he with his strenuous exertions, that he felt his strength rapidly weakening. Again and again, he nerved himself to the contest, and flung aside the falling embers with the desperation of despair. At last, after an almost superhuman effort, he flung out his hand to ward off another burning missive, when all power deserted him, and with a cry he fell forward full upon a large bolder.

He was aroused by a drop of moisture upon his cheek. Then another, and still another, and he knew that the blessed rain had come to his relief. Oh, how good it was to lie there, and feel the refreshing shower upon his hot face and hands. He knew, too, that the rain would quench the fire for a time, at least, and make it possible for him to escape. He must reach the island to find out about his mother and Jess, and how they had fared. The rain by now had developed into a regular downpour, and the raging fire had been quenched as if by magic.

The dense volumes of smoke no longer rolled over the land, and as John looked out upon the blackened plains a scene of desolation met his eyes. The forest on every side was in ruins, even to the lake, a glimpse of which he could see through the stark flame-swept trees. But how far beyond had the fire extended? That was the question which filled him with anxiety. Had it reached the island, which here was but a few yards from the mainland, or had it been checked by the lake and the rain? This he must find out, and at once.

With difficulty he rose to his feet, for he was bruised and sore, and stepped over to where Randall was lying. Pulling away the coat, he laid his hand upon the man's shoulder, shook him, and told him to get up, as the danger was over. A peculiar muttering sound was the only response, and as John dragged back the prostrate body from between the boulders and looked upon the man's face, he was astonished to see the strange vacant expression in his eyes. Then his lips began to move, and he stared fearfully around.

"Don't let it get me!" he cried. "For G.o.d's sake, keep it away! Look, look, it's coming!"

"Come, come, sir, you're all right," Hampton soothed, certain now that the man's mind was somewhat unbalanced by the fearful ordeal through which he had recently pa.s.sed. "It is raining hard now; don't you feel it? The fire is all out, so you have nothing more to fear."

But Randall clutched him frantically by the arm, and pointed across the plains. "See, see; there it is!" he cried. "It's coming this way! It will burn me alive! Ob, save me! Save me!"

John now realised the helplessness of the situation. It was necessary for him to hurry to the island, and yet he could not leave this demented man alone on the plains. The more he talked and reasoned, the more violent Randall became, begging most piteously to be saved. It seemed strange to John that this helpless being lying there could ever have been the Harry Randall of whom he had beard so much, and who but a short time before had cursed him so bitterly. Of what avail now were his power, wealth and wrath?

As John stood and wondered what to do, feeling keenly his own impotence, a shout to the right startled him, causing him to turn quickly in that direction. And as he did so, he saw several men hurrying toward him. As they drew nearer, be recognised them as neighbours, men he had known all his life.

"For heaven's sake!" the first man exclaimed, as he reached the spot.

He ceased, and his eyes grew big with astonishment as he glanced down upon Randall. "Is that him?" he asked.

"You know him, then?" John queried.

"Hen. Randall, ain't it?"

"Yes, all that's left of him. But how did you know he was here, Jim?"

"Oh, a feller came for us in a car. Said his boss was out here somewhere, and he was afraid the fire had overtaken him. Guess Randall must have got lost. But we couldn't do anything when we did come. If it hadn't been for that rain the fire would have done terrible damage."

"It's done a great deal already," and John motioned to Randall, who had ceased his pleadings, and was lying still upon the ground. "He's had a hard time of it. His ankle's sprained or broken, I don't know which, and he's crazy."

The four men of the relief party looked curiously upon Randall, who presented a wretched appearance with his blackened face and rain-soaked clothes.

"D'ye think he'll get over this?" Jim Shaw asked, turning to John.

"Not if he stays here," was the emphatic reply. "You men must take him out of this at once. I've got to go to the island. Mother's there."

"Your mother's on the island!" Jim fairly shouted the words. "Why, no one could live on the island before that fire. Good Lord, man! She must be burned alive!"

For a few seconds the five men stood and stared at one another. The horror of the situation silenced their tongues. John was the first to speak.

"You look after Randall," he ordered. "I must get to the island and find out the worst. Perhaps the rain checked the fire in time."

He then turned and hurried across the blackened waste. He tried to keep calm, but his heart beat fast, and a great dread possessed him.

What if his mother and Jess were both dead! The thought was appalling.

It drove him forward like a hound. He leaped over sticks and stones in his headlong speed, dashed through the burned trees, and sprang out upon the sh.o.r.e of the lake. Here he stopped, and as his eyes rested upon the island a cry of despair burst from his lips. The fire had reached the place and swept it from end to end! But what of his mother and Jess! Were they alive? or were their charred bodies now lying exposed to the pelting rain? He called again and again at the top of his voice, but received no reply. The silence was ominous, for from where he was standing anyone, even in the middle of the small island, should be able to hear.

The one thing now for him to do was to cross that narrow strip of water and find out just what had happened. The only way to get there was to swim, for his boat which he had left that morning at the upper end of the lake could not have escaped the devouring flames. He could see that the fire had pa.s.sed over the very place, close to the water's edge.

Tearing off his shoes and vest, in another minute he was into the lake, and headed for the island. He was a good swimmer and under ordinary circ.u.mstances the swim would have been mere child's play. But he was weak after his fearful exertions, and his clothes impeded his progress.

But still he struggled forward, and at length, wearied almost to the point of exhaustion, his feet touched bottom, and he staggered heavily out of the water, and fell upon the sh.o.r.e. Again he called, but received no reply.

After a few minutes' rest, he regained his feet and groped his way along the sh.o.r.e until he reached the spot where he had landed the women the night before. Fearfully he turned his eyes up the path leading to the house, and as he looked, his heart sank within him. Nothing remained of the building but a few black sticks, from which small wreaths of smoke were issuing. He walked slowly up the path like one in a dream, and stopped before the ruins. But no charred bodies did he find.

And as he looked, a new hope seized him. The women must have fled to the water for protection. Perhaps, even now, they were somewhere on the sh.o.r.e, most likely at the farther end of the island.

Encouraged by this thought, he hurried back to the landing, and made his way down along the sh.o.r.e. He kept a sharp outlook, but no sign of life met his view. As he advanced, nothing rewarded his efforts, and despair once more seized him. The women could not have escaped from the island without a.s.sistance, he was certain. And it was hardly likely that any rescuer would be on hand in the time of need. Perhaps they had rushed into the water, and driven by the fury of the flames had gone beyond their depth. All this came into his mind as he turned the lower end of the island and viewed the sh.o.r.e to his right. He stopped and cast his eyes toward the mainland, but everywhere was the same scene of black desolation. It was wonderful how fast and far the fire had travelled before being checked by the rain.

Continuing his walk, he moved slowly along the sh.o.r.e until he came abreast the spot where the cabin had stood, and on the opposite side of the island from the landing. There was no need for him to go any farther. The women were nowhere in the vicinity, he was sure. They must have been drowned!

But perhaps they had been overtaken by the fire in their rush to the water, and their charred bodies even now might be lying among the trees. It was a fearful thought, which paled his burnt cheeks, and caused him to tremble violently. Should he search for them? he asked himself.

"I can't do it!" he groaned. "Oh, G.o.d! this is terrible!"

He buried his face in his hands, and sank down upon the ground, his soul writhing with the agony of an overwhelming despair.

CHAPTER XXVII

IN THE NICK OF TIME

"What a lovely place this is!"

Jess was standing close to the water looking across at the opposite sh.o.r.e. Mrs. Hampton, seated upon the bank, thought she had never beheld a more beautiful picture of grace and maidenly charm. Her heart thrilled as she watched her standing there. She was her own child, and no one had any right to take her away. Her face, however, became grave as she thought of Henry Randall. He was a determined man, she was well aware, and he would exert every effort, and spend money without stint to get control of the girl he believed to be his daughter. She felt that affairs were nearing a crisis now. But she would fight, and, if necessary, divulge the story of her own wretched sin. It would be a startling revelation to the two young people, she was certain, but she fondly cherished the hope that they would readily forgive her for her dark deed of the past.