There was also another reason why Miss Tabby's cries for help could not be heard. Sybil Berners was the one solitary prisoner in this long and remote corridor. Her door was barred and bolted fast, and it was not deemed necessary to leave a night watch on duty near it. Thus, if they should happen to be forgotten in the general panic, they would certainly be drowned; for even if the thunder of waters, and the shouting of men, and crashing of timbers, had been less deafening and distracting, Miss Tabby's voice would still have failed to reach the ears of the distant turnkeys.
From her fruitless efforts at the barred door, she rushed in desperation to the grated window. With a fearful shriek she threw her hands to her head, and rushed away again. The surrounding waters had risen within a foot of the window sill! She filled the air of the cell with her shrieks, as she rushed madly about from wall to wall, like a frenzied screaming macaw, beating itself against the bars of its cage.
"To lie drownded here in the cell like a cat in a tub! To be drownded like a cat in a tub!" was the burden of her death song.
And through all this Sybil slept the sleep of coma.
Suddenly the young babe awoke and added its shrill and feeble pipes to the horrible uproar.
The old maid had all a mother's tenderness in her heart. In the midst of her own agony of terror she ceased to scream, and went and took the babe and cried gently over its fate, murmuring:
"Only a few hours old, and to die in this horrible den, my babe! Oh, my babe! And you not even baptized! Oh, my goodness, not even baptized! What shall I do? Oh! what shall I do? Let you die without baptism? Oh, no, no! I never did baptize a child in my life, which I know I'm all unworthy to do it! But—but, I know the church allows any one to christen a child in danger of death. And so, my baby! Oh! my poor baby!" And her voice broke down in tears as she bore the child to a table where there was a pitcher of water.
Very humbly and reverently the old maid performed the sacred ceremony that her faith taught her was essential to the child's salvation. And she gave it the first name that came into her head—"Mary."
"There! now you are ready to go, my baby! Not that—that I really think the good Lord would ever keep you, my innocent one, out of His heaven, merely because you wasn't christened! No, no, I don't believe that either! But still it's best to be on the safe side, when it's so easy as sprinkling a little water and speaking a few words!—Hush! I do believe they are coming to let us out at last!" exclaimed Miss Tabby, breaking off from her monologue, as through all the general uproar a crashing sound close at hand smote upon her ear!
She hastily laid the child upon the bed, and hurried to the door. No one was there, and the bolts and bars were fast as ever. But before she could turn around the window fell in with a tremendous clatter and bang—glass and grating ringing and shattering upon the floor.