CHAPTER IX.
A TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE.
To explain what had occurred, and how that terrible cry had arisen, it is necessary to describe what had been passing in the large hall whilst the tableaux were going on upstairs.
The stalls of the bazaar were by that time pretty well empty, and made fine seats for the crowd of little people waiting eagerly to watch the antics of the performing dogs. Numbers of grown-up people, unable to get into the “theatre,” as it was dubbed for the nonce, remained to take care of the little ones, and the middle of the floor was left clear for the showman and his troupe.
This, like most other of the entertainments, was an amateur affair, the showman being a young man of fallen fortunes, who, from his love for animals, had taken to the training of performing dogs, sometimes making money by them, but always ready to lend his services for a good cause.
One of the cleverest of his dogs was a black poodle, half clipped and half shaggy, and he did wonderful things, as did also a big fox-terrier, his special friend and comrade. One of their accomplishments was to strike a match and light their pipes, and this feat was so applauded that it was repeated.
Somehow—nobody of course could say how or why—a spark from the match or the pipe settled in the poodle’s glossy coat, and, as it so chanced, his master had lately used a wash for it having some paraffin in its composition.
Instantly the poor dog was in a blaze, and, terrified out of all knowledge, rushed wildly hither and thither to the terror of all, whilst his master, catching up a great heavy cloak which a lady, with great presence of mind, flung across to him, pursued the poor creature, and at last succeeded in throwing this over him, and rolling him over till the flames were extinguished.
Everybody was watching the chase and the capture, and crowding round to know how much the poor dog had been hurt; and meantime a little thread of flame was running up one of the festoons against which the dog had dashed, and this in turn set fire to other festoons, till some burning paper fell upon one of the flimsy draperies of a stall, and in a moment a piercing cry went up from fifty throats—
“Fire! Fire!”
This was the cry which fell upon the ears of the packed assembly in the upper room, and immediately a thrill and a rustle went through the spectators.
North was one of the actors in the picture, but in a moment he sprang to the footlights and said, speaking with an air of authoritative entreaty—
“I beg you, ladies and gentlemen, to keep your seats, and only go out quietly. Remember that that door is the only exit. If it becomes choked nobody behind can escape. Probably whatever has occurred is only trifling. I beg you not to endanger your own safety and that of others by any sort of a rush. Let those on the back rows move first, and in five minutes the place can be cleared.”
So spoke North, and a cheer went up from several amongst the audience, and those in the front remained still, though faces were pale, and heads were anxiously turned towards the door, where the sounds from the great hall below became more and more menacing. Then a puff of smoke darkened the air and a lady shrieked, and the next moment a man’s voice from the stage exclaimed hoarsely:
“I vow the place is on fire! I’m not going to stay to be suffocated like a rabbit in its warren!”
At those words the whole hall rose in a sort of panic, but North had caught hold of the figure, which in its finery was on the verge of leaping into the space below, and in a voice hoarse with passion he cried out:
“Cyril—you coward! You sha’n’t do it! Not if I have to detain you by force. If there is a panic now it will be all your doing!”
For a moment it was touch and go. North held his breath. His voice could not be heard, but his action had been seen. Somebody had thrown back the darkening curtains and let in the bright sunshine, and Oscar instantly turned off the gas of the footlights. The opportune flood of daylight had the effect of restoring momentary confidence; and Miss Adene, who was in the third row, was earnestly entreating those about her not to crowd out before their turn. She had a calm and gentle firmness of manner that had its due effect, and though there was considerable press in the doorway, and often those who got through gave an audible shriek on reaching the vestibule leading into the hall below, still there was no absolute choking of the one exit, and North, who stood holding back the struggling Cyril, his face sternly set towards the door, gave a sigh of infinite relief as he saw that there would not be the dreaded block, which might have meant loss of many lives.
Suddenly his hold on Cyril’s torn finery relaxed, and he half pushed him from him.
“Go now, if you must! I have others to see to, but——”
Cyril waited for nothing more. He was off like an arrow from a bow, pushing and elbowing his way out, even jostling past Miss Adene, who was quietly conducting down the gangway a party of ladies who had instinctively turned to her as to a tower of strength in a terrible moment. He did not recognise her, though she knew him well enough, and a little curve of the lips showed her feelings as he pushed by.
Upon the stage was a frightened group of white-faced girls all clinging together, watching with dilated eyes the melting of the crowd round the door, and the increasing volume of smoke rolling in.
Effie’s father had pushed his way upwards and was on the stage, holding his daughter closely in his arms, whilst Sheila had run to Oscar at the first hint of danger, and the two were standing together, he striving to keep her calm, whilst she was piteously asking if they could not get out by one of the windows. She knew the hall was on fire.
May’s brothers had taken possession of her and another girl-actor who had nobody with her. North had climbed up to see if there was any reasonable chance of rescue from the street. It was very plain that to go out into the larger hall was only to change one peril for another. Lionel Benson came up and said—
“Look here, North, this place is almost clear now. I’ll go and have a look what is happening below. If there’s a crush and panic there and the exits are choked, we’d better shut the doors upon ourselves and attract attention from without. The building is solid enough, that won’t burn easily. It’s the flimsy flummery that’s caught alight. Hark at that screaming below. I’m afraid things are bad there. Don’t let our girls go out into it just yet. We may be safer here. I’ll go and look and report.” And, in fact, as Lionel was speaking, there was a backward recoil into the hall of many who had left it. Miss Adene came in with a pale face, saying to North who eagerly met her—
“They are getting the children out as fast as they can. I trust there will be no lives lost; but it is a terrible sight, with all the draperies in a blaze, and flakes of fire falling down from the burning festoons. The firemen are here. I have seen brass helmets; I think they will stop the choking of the exits, but I would rather be here with May. Is the child very much frightened? Let me go to her.”
May and Sheila both ran forward at sight of Miss Adene. Their faces were white beneath the stage paint; they clasped her hands, and cried out piteously—
“Oh, Miss Adene, oh, Cousin Mary! What is it? What is happening? Is it very bad? Oh, please tell us! Can’t we get out? Must we stay here to be——”
They could not get out the awful word; they were trembling like aspens. Miss Adene took a hand of each and said—
“Nothing can happen to us but what our heavenly Father permits. We will ask Him in our hearts to bring us safely out of this, and I think He will. Brave men are at work to put down the danger. They are getting the hose into the building, and I think they will soon get the fire under. I think we are better here than swelling the number below. See, they have shut out the smoke now! Suppose you come and change your dresses? You will be more comfortable then; and for the next ten minutes I think you may be sure you will not have to move.”
Trembling and terrified, yet half reassured, the girls allowed themselves to be led into the dressing-room beyond, where others had crowded, as though to get as far off as possible from the sounds below and the terrible, choking smoke-wreaths. The windows were open, and here there was little to be heard or seen. They hurried into their own dresses, listening and talking in breathless undertones the while, whilst messengers went to and fro, and Mr. North sat holding Effie in his arms, the shock having been quite too much for her, and culminating in an acute attack of breathlessness which the smoke-laden air seemed to aggravate.
“Let her come to the window,” said Sheila, and room was made for her there. But nobody could keep still or help starting and shuddering at every sound from without. They could hear what a tumult was going on in another street, and it was hard to bear being shut up here; yet every messenger who went out for news came back saying they were safest where they were.
Then a sudden cheer arose from North and the youths about him, and in dashed Oscar, crying out—
“Here comes the fire-escape round the corner, with Lionel Benson to guide it! He has got out all right, and has brought it for us. Now we are as safe as anything! Good old Lionel! Now then, ladies, one at a time! We will have you all safe directly.”
Sheila suddenly went sick and white with the revulsion of feeling, and May, seizing Miss Adene’s hands, sobbed out—
“Oh, Cousin Mary, Cousin Mary, God has heard us, after all! I’m afraid I did not quite believe He would!”
The next minute a helmeted figure was among them, quietly settling matters, and sending one girl after another down the shoot, to be received with cries and cheers by those below.
But it took some little time, and Miss Adene, disengaging her hands from May’s, said quietly—
“I should like to go and have one more look into the hall. I shall have plenty of time before my turn comes.”
“Oh, let me go with you!” cried Sheila eagerly, and May, too, was filled with a sudden, timid, and irresistible curiosity. Oscar, who was standing beside his sister, took her hand at once, and said—
“Come, then, and see! But I think the worst is over now. They have had the hose at work some while now. But the place is like a kiln; you could hardly get through it now.”
And, indeed, when the doors were opened, such a volume of hot, reeking steam came pouring in that it was with difficulty they could see anything. The steady sound of pumping was in their ears, and through the gloom they could still see darting tongues of flame rising up from the charred masses of woodwork and drapery that had once been gaily-decked stalls. The hiss of the water, the moving shapes of the firemen with their shining helmets, the desolation of the scene as compared with what it had been an hour before was something rather terrible to contemplate; and Sheila, clinging to Oscar’s arm, whispered a frightened query—
“Oh, tell me, has anybody been killed?”
“I believe not—I hope not; but some have been hurt and more have been terribly frightened. If the ladies with the children had not behaved splendidly when it broke out, they say there must have been a fearful loss of life; but nobody knows any details yet.”
“I think the only person who has absolutely disgraced himself is my brother Cyril,” said North, coming up to look for the missing ladies, his face still wearing the stern, set look that had characterised it throughout. That he felt Cyril’s behaviour keenly was self-evident. May took the arm he offered her, and said in her gracious way—
“But I suppose sometimes even a brave man may lose his head. I’m sure, if I could have moved hand or foot, I should have made a most frantic rush.”
“You did not do it, at any rate,” said North, with a straight look into May’s charming face that made her colour up to her ears—“and Cyril did. I think I could forgive him better if he were not my brother. And there was no immediate danger where we were. He had not that excuse. To push aside women and girls to effect his own escape——” The young man ceased suddenly, as though realising that in the stress of his feeling he was needlessly vituperating his own brother. But, as he said, it was the very fact of the close relationship that made the disgrace so hard to bear.
It was an easy descent to the street, though a strange experience, and Sheila stood beside May in the midst of the eager crowd, breathless, safe, and more keenly excited than she had ever been in her life before.
“Oh, Sheila,” she cried as, in response to North’s eager invitation, they all moved off together in the direction of River Street, “I have had my wish at last!”
“What wish?”
“Oh, don’t you remember what I said one day about wishing there could sometimes be danger to see what men and women would do? We were in danger to-day, were we not? And how splendidly so many of the people behaved!”
“Didn’t they!” cried Sheila eagerly. “I think North was fine. The way he held back Cyril, and kept all the people quiet! And Miss Adene was just as splendid too.”
“Oh, yes; I do like to see brave things!” cried May impulsively. “I thought your brother and cousin—I mean North, you know—were just what men should be—thinking of things and doing them, and never troubling about themselves.”
“Yes, my other cousin wasn’t much like that,” said Sheila, with a scornful turn of the lip. “I shall never, never care the least bit for Cyril again.”
“I don’t think anybody could,” said May, “who saw him to-day.”
(To be continued.)
[ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.]
⁂ The Editor begs to announce that he cannot undertake to return the MSS. of compositions (literary or musical) sent for criticism in this column.