"For God's sake, be calm, sir, we've done all we could, we'll do all we can!"
Not true! not true! except the last. "Helen!" he cried roughly, "your father--come!"
Did she smile? He did not wait to make certain, but leaving her, dashed down the hill. Halfway he turned doubtfully, hoping she had followed him; but, already almost lost in the mist, he saw the lonely figure with the faint glow about it still seated on Betty Cam's chair.
As he dashed on again a curious shuddering boom rolled through the fog. He wondered vaguely what it was, but his whole mind was set on that nebulous circle of flaming light. He was nearer now, the vignetting grew sharper, towers and balconies began to loom luridly, beset by tongues of flame. It must be all on fire--a wide sweep from end to end.
Again that shuddering boom--what was it? My God! Could Helen be right again, and was it a ship in distress? As he ran, he counted ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, fifty-five, sixty. A ship! a ship, indeed! Was there to be no ending or horrors? He was on the upward rise now. The aureole had gone. He could see the flames leaping while the crowd stood still.
A large crowd, thank God! so they must be all out surely!
He met a man running back, calling as he ran, "A ship in distress on the rocks--the life-boat--more help needed there, come!"
"Are they all out?" he shouted, and the man nodded as he ran.
A relief, indeed!
He slackened speed, as more fisher-folk ran past him back to their work, their trade.