"That's all very fine!" Eric interrupted, impatiently. "We were quite contented that you should remain at home, but you needn't put on an injured air as though you'd been purposely neglected."
"You have no consideration for me," Celia pouted; "however, I shall have Joy for a companion again soon."
"Celia, I suppose there is no doubt but that Joy's hip will get well after a while?" Eric asked, impressively. "Don't you think she ought to be able to walk by this time?"
"Oh, I suppose Dr. Forbes understands all about it," Celia rejoined, "and he says she must not stand yet."
Eric looked dissatisfied; but he said no more, and shortly afterwards the sister and brother separated for the night. The boy, who had been out-of-doors all the day, and had been playing cricket for several hours, was very tired, so that the minute his head touched the pillow he was in the land of dreams. And such disturbing, horrifying dreams they were too!
He fancied he saw the carriage accident, the lumbering traction engine, the horses running away, and his mother and sisters flung from the carriage into the road. Then the scene changed, and he imagined that he and Putty were making an enormous bonfire in the Vicarage garden, and that it was burning finely, the flames leaping up high, whilst clouds of smoke arose from it. A sudden puff of wind seemed to blow the smoke into his face; it grew thicker and thicker so that he could not see the bonfire at all; it made his eyes smart, and almost choked him. He tried to run away, but could not move; he was bound hand and foot, and though he endeavoured to scream, his lips refused to utter a sound; then he felt he was falling headlong over a precipice, and suddenly awoke with a sensation of shock.
"I've been dreaming," he muttered. "How horrible it was! There's no bonfire really, and I'm safe in bed all right."
The last thing before getting into bed he had pulled up the blind, so now the full harvest moon shone into the window, and lit up the room. Eric opened his eyes and looked around; shut his eyes, and opened them again. How misty everything looked, and surely he really did smell smoke!
Fully awakened now, the boy sprang out of bed and slipped on his dressing-gown. Opening the door, he was startled to find the smell of smoke stronger outside. Celia's room was between his mother's and his own, and thither he hurried, rapping sharply upon her door. Receiving no answer, he turned the handle, but the door refused to open. It was locked.
Now thoroughly alarmed, Eric rapped louder than before; then he became aware of the fact that smoke was pouring from under the door, and through the crevices by the hinges. Uttering a cry of alarm, he rushed down the passage to the swing door which shut off the east wing from the rest of the house, and pushing it open shrieked, "Fire! Fire!" at the top of his voice.