She pointed towards the open doorway before which a red veil was shimmering and waving, then turned to the old man, threw her arms around his neck and hid her face on his breast, while her whole form shook with uncontrollable sobs.
Dazed for a moment by this direct appeal, and by the very evident beauty of his petitioner, Glenning stood without moving. Then from the huddled crowd, apathetic and silent, burst the figure of a man, running towards the stable. He came swiftly, and Glenning saw only a low, heavily-built person. But as he sped by the new doctor saw his face, and shuddered. It was dark, brutish, treacherous, devilish. Then the man was gone towards the open door. The girl had turned in time to behold this man's actions, and on her countenance was repulsion and disgust. The onrushing form had nearly reached his goal when a sudden shifting of the breeze concentrated the flames and dashed them into his face with a spiteful hiss. He stopped as though smitten, staggered and fell back, choked and coughing. With his hands to his face he reeled over into a patch of weeds, calling hoarsely for water. Glenning looked at the girl again, and in her eyes was a dumb appeal. The man's mouth squared in quick decision, and in a second his lassitude became transformed into vigorous action. He took off his coat with a few dextrous movements, and holding it as a shield before his face, quickly drew near the door now guarded by a wall of shifting fire.
He felt the hot air rushing into his lungs as he advanced, but he never flinched. Drawing a deep breath, he leaped hard, and passed over the jealously guarded portals. Faintly to his ears came the resounding cheer which accompanied this feat. But he had sterner work before him than to receive merely the praise of those who watched him from a safe distance. He was alone in a fiery furnace; caged with a maddened animal. He realized that his work must be done at once, or he would perish miserably.
Outside, the crowd inched nearer. Renewed silence had succeeded Glenning's successful entrance into the stall of The Prince, and under this strange stillness they came closer, in a body, breathing awesomely and straining their eyes to see. But the waving curtain of flame baffled their peering gaze. Only once they saw a dark, writhing bulk beyond the gleaming barrier, then this was hidden. Major Dudley and Julia had not changed their positions. But upon his face now shone the light of hope, while the girl's was stony with despair and dread. The brief moments were as leaden-footed hours, and time changed into eternity for the anxious hearted watchers. No sound now but the crackling of wood and the subtle swish of flames, and far off in the shadows at the rear of the lot a subdued coughing, where Devil Marston crouched and nursed his scorched lungs, and cursed the unknown man who had gone where he could not go. The stable was large, and the conflagration was now at its height, and it presented a gorgeous, if harrowing, spectacle. Red and yellow and dun streamers shot skyward, shaking out their serpentine lengths, wrapping and twining about each other, dying if a breath of wind touched them, only to be succeeded by others, fiercer and longer and more vivid. Crawling, hissing, crimson serpents of heat disported over the trembling roof of the building, and myriad of sparks would rise on columns of rose-tinted smoke when a bit of timber dropped. And deep in the very heart of all this hell, burned, blinded, suffocated and weak, a brave soul wrestled with imminent and torturing death, because a woman had looked twice into his eyes and asked for help, if he were a man!
There came a change. Less than a minute had elapsed since Glenning had committed himself to almost certain death. Then the watchers saw a movement at the flame-hung door. An indistinguishable something seemed trying to force its way out. At this moment, as though fortune truly favored the brave, the veering wind caught the red curtain and drew it aside as gently as though done by a lady's hand. Out from the inferno within sprang a man, his clothing covered with little red tongues, his face blackened and his hair singed and disordered. After him, with the man's coat bound over his head, the sleeves tied under his throat, completely blindfolding him, came The Prince. Glenning swung on to his halter, and as the falling sparks nipped the horse afresh he reared hugely and lunged forward with demoniacal fury. The man's spent strength could not cope with this final outburst. The horse bore him down, rushed over him, and the crowd scattered right and left to seek safety.
Peter, with a shrill cry of joy, ran to the prostrate figure and drew it farther away from the fire. As he laid the rescuer of The Prince down Julia was there to receive his head in her lap. Her face was white as the gown she wore, but her voice was clear as she spoke.
"Peter, go for a doctor! Daddy, bring some water, please."
She gently placed her hand upon the smoke-grimed forehead, and while the crowd lingered to await the outcome, Devil Marston stole away with curses deep and vile, and set his dark face towards home.