“Clang—­crash—­clang!”

The roar and ring of swift elevators shooting upward from below made the great tower tremble.  A murmur and babel of voices swept in upon the night.  All over the once dead city the lights blinked, flickered, and flamed; and then with a sudden clanging of doors the entrance to the platform was filled with men, and one with white and flying hair rushed to the girl and lifted her to his breast.  “My daughter!” he sobbed.

Behind him hurried a younger, comelier man, carefully clad in motor costume, who bent above the girl with passionate solicitude and gazed into her staring eyes until they narrowed and dropped and her face flushed deeper and deeper crimson.

“Julia,” he whispered; “my darling, I thought you were gone forever.”

She looked up at him with strange, searching eyes.

“Fred,” she murmured, almost vaguely, “is the world—­gone?”

“Only New York,” he answered; “it is terrible—­awful!  You know,—­but you, how did you escape—­how have you endured this horror?  Are you well?  Unharmed?”

“Unharmed!” she said.

“And this man here?” he asked, encircling her drooping form with one arm and turning toward the Negro.  Suddenly he stiffened and his hand flew to his hip.  “Why!” he snarled.  “It’s—­a—­nigger—­Julia!  Has he—­has he dared——­”

She lifted her head and looked at her late companion curiously and then dropped her eyes with a sigh.

“He has dared—­all, to rescue me,” she said quietly, “and I—­thank him—­much.”  But she did not look at him again.  As the couple turned away, the father drew a roll of bills from his pockets.

“Here, my good fellow,” he said, thrusting the money into the man’s hands, “take that,—­what’s your name?”

“Jim Davis,” came the answer, hollow-voiced.

“Well, Jim, I thank you.  I’ve always liked your people.  If you ever want a job, call on me.”  And they were gone.

The crowd poured up and out of the elevators, talking and whispering.

“Who was it?”

“Are they alive?”

“How many?”

“Two!”

“Who was saved?”

“A white girl and a nigger—­there she goes.”

“A nigger?  Where is he?  Let’s lynch the damned——­”

“Shut up—­he’s all right-he saved her.”

“Saved hell!  He had no business——­”

“Here he comes.”

Into the glare of the electric lights the colored man moved slowly, with the eyes of those that walk and sleep.

“Well, what do you think of that?” cried a bystander; “of all New York, just a white girl and a nigger!”

The colored man heard nothing.  He stood silently beneath the glare of the light, gazing at the money in his hand and shrinking as he gazed; slowly he put his other hand into his pocket and brought out a baby’s filmy cap, and gazed again.  A woman mounted to the platform and looked about, shading her eyes.  She was brown, small, and toil-worn, and in one arm lay the corpse of a dark baby.  The crowd parted and her eyes fell on the colored man; with a cry she tottered toward him.