“It must be Eben,” Mrs. Hampton declared, as she rose quickly to her feet.  “Let us go and find, out what is the matter.”

It did not take them long to grope their way to the entrance, for as they advanced they were guided by the light from the opening.  Smoke was hovering about the mouth of the mine, and the air felt somewhat cool.

“It is raining!” Jess exclaimed.  “The fire is all out.”  Then she gave a cry of fright as Eben’s body, huddled upon the ground, met her eyes.  Mrs. Hampton had seen it, too, and was first by the boy’s side.

“Is he dead?” Jess asked in an awed voice.

“No, he is alive,” Mrs. Hampton replied as she felt his pulse.  “But look at his face!  Isn’t it terribly burned!”

“And his hands, arms, and body!” Jess replied.  “Oh, the poor boy!” She dropped upon her knees by his side, and took one of the swollen hands in hers.  “He must have been burned when he leaped through the fire at the landing,” she continued.  “And he must have been suffering all the time while he was rowing us here, and we were too much excited to notice it.  Now I understand the meaning of that groan in the mine.  Oh, what are we to do?”

“I am afraid we can do nothing,” Mrs. Hampton replied.  “The fire has destroyed the boat, so we cannot cross the lake.  The only thing to do is to leave you here with Eben while I go for assistance.”

“Perhaps John will soon be here,” Jess suggested.  “He must be very anxious about us.”

“But he won’t know where to find us.”

“He will come to the island, anyway, and will search everywhere for us.  Perhaps we shall be able to see him and call to him.  Suppose we wait for a while.  You cannot walk to the river.”

“I can do more than you imagine,” was the quiet reply.  “But it is just as well to wait awhile.  In the meantime we must get this poor boy under shelter.  Let us carry him into the mine.”

As carefully and tenderly as possible the two lifted the unconscious lad and bore him into the opening of the mine, where they laid him down upon the ground.  With his head on her lap, Jess wiped away the moisture from the red swollen face.  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched him, and noted how his hair had been burnt away, and his features distorted with pain.

“You poor boy!” she murmured.  “You did it all for us, and we can do nothing for you now.”

“We must do something,” Mrs. Hampton declared.  “I cannot wait here and let the boy die without making an effort to save his life.  I can go to the other side of the lake, anyway, and be at the landing when anyone comes.  John will surely be there soon.  I hope nothing has happened to him.”

At these words an expression of fear appeared in the girl’s eyes as she turned them upon her mother’s face.

“Perhaps he tried to reach us and was caught by the fire!” Her heart beat fast, and her face became very white.