“Fire!”
Two nights after the events just related, Frank had taken his evening walk and was returning to the old place, which he was leaving forever on the morrow, as it was already sold, and the writings had been made.
The cry reached his ears from a distance.
The cry of fire at night has a weird, peculiar sound, once heard never forgotten.
Frank started from the spell that had been on him. He threw up his head and listened.
Again the cry reached his ears. It came from a distant part of the village.
Quick as thought he whirled about and ran in that direction.
In the city the alarm is sometimes heard, but, more frequently, the first knowledge of the fire comes from the sight of the engine as it goes dashing to the rescue.
In small country places the wild cry of fire is almost always the first alarm.