Meanwhile, no movement was observable in the brooding figure of Mr. Allison. I sprang through the gate and knocked with all my might on a door which opened upon a side porch.
Confronting me with dilating eyes, he faltered slowly back till his natural instincts of courtesy recalled him to himself, and he bowed, when I found courage to cry:
"Fire! Your house is on fire! Up there, overhead!"
So intense were the feelings I saw aroused in him that I expected to see him rush into the open air with loud cries for help. But instead, he pushed the door to behind me, and locking me in, said, in a strange tone:
"Don't call out, don't make any sound or outcry, and above all, don't let any one in; I will fight the flames alone!" and seizing a lamp from the study-table, he dashed from me toward a staircase I could see in the distance.
Alas! it was a thrilling look—a look which no girl could sustain without emotion; and spellbound under it, I stood in a maze, alone and in utter darkness.
While my emotions were at their height a bell rang. It was the front door-bell, and it meant the arrival of the engines.
As the bell rang a second time, a light broke on the staircase I was so painfully watching, and Mr. Allison descended, lamp in hand, as he had gone up.
What passed between him and the policeman whose voice I heard in the hall, I do not know. I finally heard the front door close.
I must have met him with a pleading aspect, very much like that of a frightened child, for his countenance changed as he approached me.