Happily assistance was near—very near. Duty and Affection had been ascending the hill to pay an evening visit to Nelly, when they had been startled by the noise of the explosion, the shrieks, and then the sight of the blazing thatch. Without a moment's delay they had shouted for assistance to a party of men who were going homewards at the close of a day's work. A cart full of empty barrels happened to be passing at the same time, and its contents were instantly seized upon for use. The labourers, incited and directed by the sisters, rushed down at once to the brook, thankful that water was so nigh. Happily there was no wind to fan the fierce conflagration, a heavy mist was beginning to rise, and strong and willing hands were at work to put out the fire. Duty and Affection were everywhere—encouraging the men, directing their efforts, nay, labouring themselves with an energy and courage which filled all beholders with surprise. Never could Nelly forget that night. The rushing to and fro—the crackling of the flames—the hissing of the water thrown upon them—the volumes of smoke that arose, the cries, the screams, the hallooing—then the shout of triumph when at length the fire was completely subdued.
Nelly's chief alarm was on account of her brother and sister. While the tumult yet raged around, she rushed, guided by Matty's screams, to a spot where she found the poor girl trembling in an agony of terror.
"Oh, Matty, are you injured?" exclaimed Nelly.
"I don't know—I can't tell," sobbed Matty, who was much more frightened than hurt, though her hair, and even her eyebrows, had been singed by the explosion of the fireworks.
"And Dick—poor Dick—is he safe?" cried Nelly, glancing anxiously around.
"There he is—lying on the ground!" exclaimed Lubin, who had just discovered his brother stretched senseless upon the earth, having been struck on the head by a large piece of wood at the time of the explosion.
"Oh, I hope and trust that he is not killed!" exclaimed Nelly, running to him, in bitter distress.
"Not killed, only stunned—see, he is opening his eyes," said Lubin, who was now on his knees, supporting his brother in his arms. "If Matty would only assist us, we could carry him into your cottage, Nelly, out of this noise and confusion."
Tenderly the three young Desleys raised their poor wounded brother, and carried him into the cottage. Affection soon followed, to attend to his hurts and bind up his bleeding brow—for Affection is a nurse of great skill.
The fire was out—the danger over; Duty rewarded the labourers, and the cottages were left to the children and their two faithful friends in need. Duty and Affection remained through all the dark hours of that trying night, soothing Matty, encouraging Lubin, cheering the heart of poor Nelly. Even when obliged to leave for awhile, the sisters paid repeated visits to the cottage, bearing with them everything needful. Nelly now found, indeed, what it was to have such friends as Duty and Affection.