In the excitement of the moment Dan gave no attention to the utterance of Miss Linisfarne's Christian name by the gipsy. He thought of nothing but the girl he loved.
"Meg! Meg! Where is Meg?"
"I don't know," said Tim, who appeared at that instant, bearing in his arms the inanimate body of Miss Linisfarne. "Let us take this one to a place of safety."
"But Meg! Meg will be burnt to death!" cried Dan, and made a frantic rush forward. The flames sent him back, and he was almost stifled by the smoke. It was utterly impossible to pass that barrier of flame in search of Meg.
At right angles to where he stood there was a window. As the passage was full of smoke, Dan darted to this, and smashed the glass. As the cold air rushed in he thought he heard a cry. Without considering what he was doing, he clambered out on to the sill of the window, and saw the whole length of the west wing stretching towards the hill. The flames flared upward through the roof, but the side was as yet untouched by the fire. It was as bright as day, and, clinging to the ivy some distance along, Dan saw the figure of a woman.
"Meg! Meg!" he shouted. "Hold on! I am here!"
"Dan, save me!"
She had succeeded in wrenching the bars from the window of her cell, and had managed with difficulty to thrust herself through the aperture. The effort had exhausted her strength, and now she was clinging helplessly to the thick ivy which matted the walls. Overjoyed at the sight of her still alive, Dan shouted encouragement, and reflected how he could assist her. There was no time for him to go round by the front door, as the flames were already shooting from some of the windows of the west wing, and at any moment the fire might scorch Meg.
He looked down and saw that an oak grew so close to the house that a good spring would land him in its topmost branches, which were but a little below the level of the window on the sill of which he stood. If he failed he would fall a considerable distance on to a flagged pavement, and run the risk of breaking his neck. In his cooler moments he might have hesitated to tempt such a catastrophe, but the thought of Meg's peril steeled his nerves. Marking a great bough which would bear his weight, he sprang from the window, and fortunately landed among the branches of the tree. His head struck against the bough, and he was almost stunned, but retained sufficient presence of mind to grasp at whatever came within his reach.
After that effort all seemed like a dream. He heard Meg calling him wildly, and, in some way, managed to scramble down the tree, though, when he found himself on the ground, he could not explain how he got there. His head felt giddy, and his clothes were torn to ribbons in the fall. But there was no time to be lost, and he ran along the flagged path to where he saw Meg, high above, clinging to the ivy. The parasite formed a kind of natural ladder, but he dreaded to climb it, lest he should grow giddy and fall. In desperation he looked around for some means whereby to clear his head. A pool of stagnant water was at hand, and, without a moment's hesitation, he dipped his head therein. The shock of the cold water restored him to his normal condition, and the next moment he was scrambling up the ivy. The whole time, from his spring into the oak and his clambering up the side of the house, was not more than five minutes.