"My signal echoed," yelled Hope. "Do you hear, child, my signal answered?
Thank God! thank God! thank God!"
He fell on his knees and cried like a child. The next minute, burning
with hope and joy, he was by Grace's side, with his arms round her.
"You can't give way now. Fight on a few minutes more. Death, I defy you;
I am a father; I tear my child from your clutches." With this he raised
her in his arms with surprising vigor. It was Grace's turn to shake off
all weakness, under the great excitement of the brain.
"Yes, I'll live," she cried, "I'll live for you. Oh, the gallant men!
Hear, hear the pickaxes at work; an army is coming to our rescue, father;
the God you doubted sends them, and some hero leads them."
The words had scarcely left her lips when Hope set her down in fresh
alarm. An enemy's pickaxe was at work to destroy them; Burnley was
picking furiously at the weak part of the tank, shrieking, "They will
tear me to pieces; there is no hope in this world nor the next for me."
"Madman," cried Hope--"he'll let the water in before they can save us.
Pages:
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429