At half-past eleven all the visitors had left, and Sarah was lazily sitting down chatting away to the other servants, who all felt that they deserved a little rest after such a busy evening. At last Sarah and Edith took up their candles to go to bed, leaving the others still talking. On the way Sarah heard Sir Alfred and Lady James going upstairs to their rooms, so she told Edith she was going to have one look at her beautiful mistress, and Edith had better come too, so they went up by the back staircase and peeped through the swing door.
Sir Alfred was behind his wife, when suddenly Edith gave a loud cry, and rushed downstairs again before Sarah had time to see what had happened.
Sir Alfred flung open the door and demanded an explanation of this singular conduct, when again a cry was heard, and this time it was clearly that of "fire." Sir Alfred, grasping the situation in a minute, bade his wife fly down to the bedroom, off the drawing-room, rouse their two boys, who slept there, and tell the women-servants to leave the house instantly, as he already judged the fire to be of considerable dimensions. He, meanwhile, would rush upstairs to fetch Charlie, who slept in the nursery.
Sir Alfred very soon found this to be utterly impossible, as when he opened the door he was met by volumes of smoke, and found the nursery to be one mass of flames. In a minute all was confusion, men-servants rushing about trying to save what valuables they could from the bedrooms, which were still untouched. The inmates were now assembled in front of the house, gazing horror-struck at the flames, as they illumined the darkness and filled the upper windows with their glare. Of course the whole neighbourhood was roused, and the wildest excitement prevailed.
The policemen were shouting directions, which were as far as possible obeyed, and the suspense was at last broken by the cry of, "Out of the way; here come the fire engines." The horses dashed up, panting and foaming, and all was instantly discipline and order, the walls in a minute were swarming with firemen, and water was flooding the street. But who can describe the feelings of Sir Alfred, who dared not tell his wife of his unsuccessful attempt to rescue Charlie. Hardly master of his senses, he rushed madly from room to room in the vain hopes of discovering the child, until with difficulty, for the whole staircase was now rapidly becoming one mass of flames, he escaped into the street.
Suddenly there was a universal murmur, and a voice shouted out, "Hold on, miss. Don't look down; we'll get you."
These words were addressed to Sarah, who had suddenly appeared on the drawing-room balcony, with Charlie peacefully sleeping in her arms.
Suddenly he awoke and began to cry, but poor Sarah was in no state of mind to comfort him. What ages it seemed! How slowly help came towards her, and how very heavy Charlie was getting!
Her brain seemed reeling, and her thoughts surged up, reproaching her for many a thing she had never thought twice about.
She uttered a prayer for help, and clenched her teeth, determined to hold out till relief came; and relief came but slowly. At last, when she felt it impossible to hold this heavy burden any longer, a man's voice called out to her, "Let him down, miss; it's all right now." But Sarah would not let Charlie out of her arms, fearing the effects which the awful sight of the flames might have on his already highly excitable brain; so she clutched him tighter, and the only thing to be done was to lift them over the balcony down together.