"Remember that when I ask you."
She was fain to keep her longer, but Laverne had a curious feeling that she could not understand, a half fear or mystery. And then she had some translation to make for to-morrow. She was studying German now.
She worked steadily at her lessons. Then she had a race with Bruno, and waited out on the steps for Uncle Jason. What would happen to her to-morrow? It might be an elegant parting gift. How strange Mrs. Westbury had been. No one had influenced her in just that way before.
Then she went to bed and fell asleep with the ease of healthy youth. Jason Chadsey tossed and tumbled. What would to-morrow bring? How would Laverne take it? Must she go? Would she go? How could he endure it?
"One," the solemn old clock downstairs said. "Two." He had half a mind to get up. Hark, what was that? Or was he dreaming? Oh, again, now a clang sharp enough to arouse any one. Fire! Fire! He sprang out of bed and went to the window. Was it down there on the bay? He stood paralyzed while the clamor grew louder, and flames shot up in great spires, yellow-red against the blue sky. And now an immense sheet that seemed to blot out the middle of the bay, as if it could run across. "Clang, clang," went the bells.
"Oh, what is it, fire?" cried Miss Holmes.
"Fire down on the docks. I must go. Do not disturb Laverne."
Let her sleep now. She would know sorrow soon enough.
He dressed hurriedly and went out. The stars were still shining in the blue sky, though round the edges toward the eastward there were faint touches of grayish white. But the zenith seemed aflame. Up went the great spires grandly, a thing to be admired if it brought no loss. He went stumbling down the rough ways in the semi-darkness. Once a stone rolled and he fell. Then he hurried on. Other people were out—you could discern windows crowded with heads. Was San Francisco to have another holocaust? There were shrieks and cries. The noise of the engines, blowing of horns, whistles, boats steaming up, others being towed out in the bay, wooden buildings hastily demolished to stay the progress of the red fiend. Crowds upon crowds, as if the sight were a new one.
On the corner of Davis Street he sat down on a barrel, close by a stoop, overwhelmed by the certainty. Why go any nearer? The rigging of a vessel had caught, the flames twisted this way and that by their own force, as there was no wind, fortunately.