return. She dozed off to sleep for about fifteen minutes, and when she next opened her eyes she was conscious of the smell of smoke.
She raised herself on her elbow and looked out of the dormer window beside her bed. From there she could see the Bridge of Sighs which, as you know, connected the two buildings of the school. A thin spiral of smoke was pouring out from the top of the middle window.
Her first thought was the bell. She rang it violently, but with no success, for the maids were in the laundry gossiping over a cup of tea, and the bell clanged to an empty kitchen.
Something had to be done and Polly realized that that something rested with her. As quickly as her ankle would permit—it was, of course, paining her terribly—she got into such of her clothes as she could find in the infirmary, threw Miss King’s cape around her, and thrust her stockinged feet once again into Angela’s Chinese slippers.
“Now,” she thought, as she limped painfully down the steps, “the thing to do is to get one of the teachers’ attention without letting the girls know anything is wrong.”
The fifty feet to the gym seemed as many miles to Polly. At first the excitement of her errand kept her up, but as she neared the gym the burning pain in her ankle forced her to stop every few feet to rest.
When at last she stumbled up the steps of the
gym, she was met at the door by Mrs. Baird and Miss King, who were just leaving.
“Polly, what is it?” gasped both women, hurrying to her side.
“The Bridge of Sighs is on fire—no one answered the bell—I had to come—don’t tell the girls!” And Polly, her message delivered, fainted dead away in Miss King’s arms and was carried back unconscious to the infirmary.