How long I lay in a comatose state I do not know. Certainly it could not have been a very long time—probably not over five or six minutes.
In the meantime the fire rapidly spread igniting the barrels that were stored in the tool house, and climbing up the walls of the building to the roof.
When I recovered my senses, my face was fairly scorched, and no sooner had I opened my eyes than they were blinded by smoke and flame.
By instinct rather than reason I staggered to my feet. I was so weak I could hardly stand, and my head spun around like a top. Where was the door?
I tottered to one side and felt around. There was the window tightly closed. The door I knew was opposite.
Reeling, I made my way through the smoke that now seemed to fill my lungs, to where I knew the door to be. Oh, horror! it was closed and secured!
"Heaven help me now!" burst from my parched lips. "Am I to be roasted alive?"
With all my remaining strength I threw myself against the door. Once, and again, and still it did not budge.
"Help! help!" I called at the top of my voice.
No answer came to my cry. The fire behind me became hotter and hotter. The roof had now caught, and the sparks fell down upon me in a perfect shower.