Story 3--Chapter VIII.
Tried by Fire.
It might have been but for a few seconds, but the suspense was agonising. Katie felt no fear for herself then: her fear was lest he should be discovered who had been ready to die in her defence—who had been so cruelly smitten down—he to whom, but a few hours before, she had plighted herself, owning to her love, and, for the first time, daring to respond to his kisses. But was it a few hours ago? Was it not years since, or at some time far back in the past, that those happy moments were? Or was this some wild dream—that he, the young, the bright, the true, who had treasured her love for years, and come these thousands of miles to see her—to claim her—was dying in her arms?
The stillness around them was awful; the darkness more and more intense. Cold as marble, gazing upwards ever at this invisible terror that she knew was there, would it not be better almost to cry out, she thought, and bring down others, so as to end the harrowing suspense that seemed to madden her?
But poor Ned—poor, helpless Ned! If he were not already dead—if he had not even now escaped from the arms that held him so tightly, they would slay him without mercy. No; she must remain silent. Would he move, or even mutter? Her heart gave a bound, for at that moment there was a slight motion in the form she clasped, and this made her turn her head from its strained, unnatural position, so that her cheek fell gently upon Murray’s, and then she clung to him cold and motionless, but with strained ears, as she felt that the time for discovery had come. The casement shook a little; there was a rustling noise, as of some one slowly climbing out; a heavy foot was placed upon her soft, yielding arm, then another, and the pain was sharp, but almost welcome, for it seemed to numb her mental agony. Yet no sigh escaped her lips; she only felt that the time to die had come, and a simple old prayer was being mentally repeated for pardon for those who, if not already cruelly slain, were in deadly peril—for herself and for him she so dearly loved.
Then the pressure was removed, there was a staggering step, such as might be that of a wounded man. With closed eyes, and a heavily throbbing heart, she heard a hand run along the wall, the wooden click, the door open and softly close, and then all was silent in the shed.
Silence there, but noise and confusion in the house: shouting, and more than one attempt apparently to obtain order, but all heard in a confused way, for a strange, deathly feeling of sickness had come upon the poor girl, her senses were reeling, there was a loud singing noise at her ears, and, though her name seemed to be uttered again and again, yet she could not respond, and soon all was blank.
How long that time of utter nothingness lasted, she could not tell; but she woke again to a strange feeling of oppression and misery; her breath came thick and short, and she could not recall where she was. It was as if her intellect had received some fearful stroke which had robbed her of her reflective powers. But thought came suddenly, and she knew all.
A bitter sob rose to her lips, and she could have cried for help, but in dread she checked that cry, and her heart beat triumphantly, for a voice, whose breath touched her cheek, whispered her name, and she knew that he lived.
“Katie, darling, Katie,” was whispered again—“water!”
Water! How could she get it? The spring was on the other side of the house, and the men were in the front; she could hear them still talking loudly over their plunder. If she went, they would seize her. If she appealed to them for help, they would rob him of what little life remained. What could she do? She could do nothing, she told herself despairingly—nothing but wait, and perhaps the wretches would go.
But it was not dark now. A dull light seemed to play through the window above their heads, as turning, she knew that it was smoke that she could see; and, starting to her feet, she found that, at the height of her lips, it was so dense that she could not breathe.
Was there to be no end to the perils of that fearful night? Was death to come in another and more terrible form? After escaping massacre at the hand of their ruthless enemies, were they to meet death by the lingering torture of fire?
The dread of this new alternative roused Katie into action. This was a peril that could be battled with, and they could escape if the men in front would but go. She whispered a few words to Murray, and he answered calmly and sensibly. She told him not to fear.
“Only for you,” he murmured; and for a brief moment all was still.
Then, starting once more into action, Katie asked him if he could rise, and he tried to do so, but only to fall back despairingly, when, creeping to the door, she softly lifted the latch, and pushed it a little open, so as to breathe once more the pure night air. She dared not open it far, for the voices were loud, and close at hand; but though she could not see the speakers, she could make out the reflection of their work in the bright glow lighting up the palm-like foliage around. And now a fierce, low, crackling noise fell upon her ears, and she crept back hastily to where Murray lay, seized him in her arms, and tried to drag him towards the door, but in vain. She could only move him a few inches at a time, so perfectly helpless was he.
“It is of no use, darling,” he whispered. “Go, glide out of the door, and make for the woods; you may escape. I cannot move; pray go; for my sake—for my sake, love!”
“Go—go—where?” murmured the trembling girl, as she still tried to move him.
“To the woods—hide somewhere—the place is on fire!” he gasped; “and God in heaven give me strength, for I cannot help her!”
“Hush, Ned, hush!” she whispered; “we shall be heard. Now try—try once more;” and she dragged at him with all her strength, so that he lay in the middle of the shed.
“No, no; I shall only draw you back to destruction,” he faintly said. “Never mind me. Escape, darling. You know the paths, and can hide, or make your way to where you can get help. Don’t stay. Look, look!” he whispered.
“I see,” she murmured.
And as she spoke, a bright tongue of flame began to lick the shingles of the roof, gilding them with its fierce fiery slaver, till first one and then another began to glow; and sparks and flakes fell from them, illumining the interior of the shed; while soon an opening appeared, through which the flames rushed careering out, the heat the while becoming insupportable.
“Katie, dear,” sighed the wounded man, “would you add torture to my death?”
“No, no,” she sobbed, as she dragged him nearer the door. “Are we not one?” And she sank exhausted by his side, to lay her face upon his arm. “Ned, my own Ned! pray—pray to heaven that our death may come quickly, and that we may wake soon where there is peace. I can do no more.”
As her simple words fell upon his ear, a loud demoniac drunken shout rose from outside, apparently close by the door; and from the trampling, mingled with the roar of the flames, it was evident that the ruffians were taking their departure.
Nerving himself for a last effort, Murray half lifted himself into a sitting position, fell back, struggled up again; and Katie rose to her knees.
“Try again—again,” he gasped; for he felt that she would not leave him; and together they struggled almost to the door, when, half-suffocated, the young man fell back once more. “Now go; leave me. You can escape yet, Katie,” he gasped. “O, if I had strength!”
But for answer he felt the two soft clinging arms round his neck, and a choking voice breathed two words in his ear:
“Forever!”
But the dread of the impending death seemed to give strength—the strength he had prayed for; and straggling a few inches at a time, with the red-hot embers gathering where they had lain but a few minutes before, and the flames crawling and dancing round the side of the house, Murray, now hardly aided by the fainting girl, contrived to reach the door, with one hand to thrust it back, so that a rush of air darted in, driving from them the smoke, as he uttered a loud cry for help.
The cry was heard; and they were seen for an instant ere the cloud of smoke wrapped them again in its folds. Two men darted forward to seize the prize, one of them, however, being daunted by the threatening roof, which, ruddy and golden, seemed ready to fall; while the other seized Katie’s dress in his hands to drag her out; but so tightly did she cling to Murray, that he was drawn forward and half raised before sinking back into the cloud of falling sparks and smoke.