All out! my God! what a relief! No! by Heaven! There was a sudden stir in the crowd, and high upon the furthermost seaword balcony, as yet untouched by the flames, a little white figure showed bending over the balustrade, and calling to some one below.
The answer reached him, making him leap forward--
"All right, little lady! I'm coming!"
There was a struggle ahead of him, a tall figure breaking loose from hands that would have held it back; and then his uncle----
"For God's sake," he shouted as he ran--"think of Helen!"
The voice arrested Sir Geoffrey for a second, and Ned never forgot the look of that scared, kindly, distraught face he saw for a moment.
"I am thinking of her," came the answer. Then the pause ended.
Ned was after him without a moment's consideration; life seemed so small a thing to him that he could not stop to think of it; but Ted Cruttenden sprang forward, also, to hold him back. The Fates did that, however, for as he would have plunged into the burning house, the upper hinge of one of the wide hall doors gave way, and as it swung inwards with a crash, just touched Ned's forearm, and snapped it like a bulrush.
As he staggered, Ted had hold of him. "You can't," he said. "He knows every turn, and may do it yet if the stairs stand. It's madness for you. And my God! there's Mrs. Tresillian. Why did they let her come? we didn't tell her on purpose----"
Ned, dazed with a pain he had hardly located, had only time to wonder stupidly how she had managed to change her dress--she wore a coat and skirt--before she was beside him clinging to his unhurt arm.