The library fire was smouldering, and cast no light upon its surroundings; yet slowly a small flame danced and flickered, and gradually filled the room with light. It did not come from the grate, but from the waste-paper basket. Captain D'Arcy's cigar had set light to some fragments of paper, and it was the beginning of a greater conflagration. Slowly the contents of the basket were consumed; then the basket itself, and as it collapsed, it rolled into the folds of a muslin curtain near. The household was wrapped in sleep, no passing policeman gave an alarm, and so the fire slowly and surely made its way.
Peggy was sleeping in a top room with Nesbitt, when she was startled out of her sleep by shouts in the street.
She sat up in bed, then shook Nesbitt.
"Nesbitt, there's a fire in our street. Do you hear them shoutin'?"
Nesbitt sprang out of bed and looked out of the window.
She started back with a terror-stricken face. "'Tis our house, Peggy! Wake cook, and let's fly!"
At the same moment Captain D'Arcy's voice could be heard below, and in another moment the frightened servants were dashing downstairs.
Volumes of smoke were issuing from the library door, but the stairs and hall were untouched, and all reached the pavement outside in safety. It is true they were very indifferently clad. Mrs. Dale was in her fur cloak, but Lucy and Nesbitt only had their thin waterproofs on, and as for Peggy she was so occupied in getting hold of her beloved stocking, that she only had time to wrap a counterpane round her shoulders.
Firemen were already on the scene. The library faced the front, and the flames were pouring out of the windows. An opposite neighbour offered Mrs. Dale shelter. Turning to her nephew, who looked quite distraught, she said—
"We must thank God we are all safe."