"It seems to me the fire is inside the house."
"Why so, young Ishmael?"
"Because if it wasn't, this storm would put it out at once! Why, if it had been the roof that caught from a burning chimney this driving rain would have quenched it in no time."
"The roof couldn't catch, young Ishmael; it is all slate."
"Oh!" ejaculated Ishmael, as they increased their speed. They proceeded in silence for a few minutes, keeping their eyes fixed on the burning building, when Ishmael suddenly exclaimed:
"The house is burning inside, professor! You can see now the windows distinctly shaped out in fire against the blackness of the building!"
"Just so, young Ishmael!"
"Now, then, professor, we must run on as fast as ever we can if we expect to be of any use. George Washington was always prompt in times of danger. Remember the night he crossed the Delaware. Come, professor, let us run on!"
"Oh yes, young Ishmael, it is all very well for you to say—run on! but how the deuce am I to do it, with the rain and wind beating this old umbrella this way and that way, until, instead of being a protection to our persons, it is a hindrance to our progress!" said the professor, as he tried in vain to shelter himself and his companion from the fury of the floods of rain.
"I think you had better let it down, professor," suggested the boy.