"I saw Luke rushing off on his bicycle," she said. "What is the matter?"
"It's a fire in the village and I'm afraid it must be near those tumble down cottages in which Mrs. Simpson and Mrs. Grot live. If the fire reaches them they will burn like tinder."
"Well then I shall go and see if I can't help," said Mrs. Greville. "If anyone is hurt I may be of use. I shall put a few things in my bag in readiness. I've some old linen and some carron oil," and she hurried into the house followed by Rachel, who made her way into the nursery and stood for a few minutes looking down at her sleeping boy.
It was a hot evening and he had kicked off the coverlet in his sleep. Rachel kissed the tiny feet gently, holding them in her hand tenderly. Then she covered him up again.
"You'll take care of him I know," she said to Polly as she moved away. "I'm going down to see if there is anything to be done in the village. I'm afraid several cottages must be in danger."
Then as she left the room she looked back once more at her sleeping boy, saying, "I'm so glad, Polly, that I can trust you implicitly. I know you would never leave the house under any circumstances, whatever Emma may do."
Polly looked at her with the brightest of smiles. She knew there was no need for words. Pat was her one thought.
Arrived at the bottom of the hill Rachel found herself in the midst of an excited crowd, and was dismayed to see that the flames had not only reached Mrs. Simpson's cottage but were approaching the one next to it, belonging to Mrs. Grot.
"The Rector has sent a boy off on his bicycle for the fire engines," explained a woman to Rachel in answer to her questions. "But I doubt if they'll come in time."
"Is Mrs. Grot here?"