'Oh dear!' exclaimed Frank, with an emotion, which struck both the ladies, as very peculiar, 'do go to see her. I have a recipe for a burn. My mother told me always to keep it in my pocket-book; it is very efficacious, even after the wound has been made some time.'
The tears rolled down Frank's cheeks, in spite of all his efforts to check them. He remembered, the phosphoric matches, and could not doubt it must have been some of these carelessly dropped, and so covered, as not to get to the air, till the little girl had disturbed them, with her foot, which caused the mischief.
They stopped at the hut, and found the child as described.
'It is a very mysterious thing,' said the old woman; 'did you ever hear before, ma'am, of fire, which water would not put out?'
'Yes,' replied Mrs. Reed; 'there is a substance, called phosphorus, which, although kept under water, for a long time, will burn as soon as it comes into the air, and by stamping on a small piece, it is spread about, and burns quicker. I don't see, however, how this could have got into the woods.'
The girl was suffering a great deal. Frank produced his recipe, but the ingredients were not to be found in this humble abode, nor could they be obtained nearer than the apothecary's, in the village.
'May I run back for them,' said Frank?
'What, three miles!' said Mrs. Reed, 'no, there is not time; but we will ride back, as quick as possible, and send for them.'
'And then may I return, and bring them?' asked Frank, with great earnestness.