Suddenly there were steps heard in the little paved court; person after person ran past the curtained window.
"Something's up," said Mary. She went to the door and stopping the first person she saw, inquired the cause of the commotion.
"Eh, wench! donna ye see the fire-light? Carsons' mill is blazing away like fun;" and away her informant ran.
"Come, Margaret, on wi' your bonnet, and let's go to see Carsons' mill; it's afire, and they say a burning mill is such a grand sight. I never saw one."
"Well, I think it's a fearful sight. Besides I've all this work to do."
But Mary coaxed in her sweet manner, and with her gentle caresses, promising to help with the gowns all night long if necessary, nay, saying she should quite enjoy it.
The truth was, Margaret's secret weighed heavily and painfully on her mind, and she felt her inability to comfort; besides, she wanted to change the current of Margaret's thoughts; and in addition to these unselfish feelings, came the desire she had honestly expressed, of seeing a factory on fire.
So in two minutes they were ready. At the threshold of the house they met John Barton, to whom they told their errand.
"Carsons' mill! Ay, there is a mill on fire somewhere, sure enough, by the light, and it will be a rare blaze, for there's not a drop o' water to be got. And much Carsons will care, for they're well insured, and the machines are a' th' oud-fashioned kind. See if they don't think it a fine thing for themselves. They'll not thank them as tries to put it out."
He gave way for the impatient girls to pass. Guided by the ruddy light more than by any exact knowledge of the streets that led to the mill, they scampered along with bent heads, facing the terrible east wind as best they might.