But no obstacle against eager help was ever more successful than that tortuous heap of heavy canvas, full of blind folds and entangled ropes, stayed fore and aft, and still fastened beyond possibility of removal to the bamboo-strengthened sides and the yet uncut guys. The seekers dived into the folds again and again to find themselves meshed; while Rose, with a sickening fear at her heart lest she should miss one, watched the sparks and shreds drifting by in clouds settling here, there, everywhere, and needing swift command to the little band of helpers. 'Quick, quick!--yonder by the corner. Another there! Stamp it out--quick! Well done!'
'What is it? what is it?' A new voice rose above the turmoil as Dan Fitzgerald came running from the rear grasping the truth as he ran. 'No, no?' he panted. 'No use, Gordon--too long. Get to the guys, for God's sake--the thickest--half a dozen men. Colonel, the right corner, please, sir; Gordon, the left; Smith, round to the back. They are not cut there, and see that the pegs hold--they must hold. Miss Tweedie, put a man to each stay as the front rises. I want the doorway--the door must show. Brothers,' he continued in Hindustani to the men who were fast falling into place, 'we have to raise the tent again. Remember, the tent rises at the word! Gordon, are you ready? All ready?----
He paused, gave a rapid glance at the sparks, and lowered his voice. 'It has to be done sharp, Colonel, or----' Again he hesitated between fear of letting the prisoner know her imminent danger, and fear of not enforcing the necessity for speed. Rose understood, and racked by anxiety as she was, felt a thrill of recognition at Dan's quick thought which, even in such a moment, enabled him to remember that, as Mrs. Boynton knew but little Hindustani, he could continue in that language. 'The tent is certain to catch fire, but it may be smouldering now; so we must risk it. Remember that I must get in and out before the canvas yields, or---- So be sharp. Gordon! you give the word!'
There was an instant's silence, broken by a voice. Then a shout, a heave, and Rose straining at a rope as she never strained before, felt, rather than saw, something rise, pause, sink; rise again fluttering, swaying.
'Higher! higher!' shouted Dan, standing close in, ready for a dive at the door. 'All together, Gordon. Shâh-bâsh, brothers! My God! it's caught already!'
A blot of shadow near her showed the coming doorway, and, half clear as it was, she saw Dan dash into it with the cry, which was echoed from outside as a little runnel of fire quivered up the half-stretched canvas.
'Stand fast! stand fast!' shouted Gordon at the guy. 'Run in, half of you, to the bamboos; they may hold longer than the stays.'
Rose was at one in a moment and clung to it, seeing nothing, thinking of nothing, but that irregular square of shadow. When would he come through it again? The tangles within! how would he thread them? For the pole having slipped from its supporting pegs had slid along the ground and would not rise more than half-way; so the inner fly-sides must be hanging in a maze--a maze of smouldering canvas. Horrible! a burning pall! Ah! would he never come?
Suddenly came another cry, as a great sheet of fire ran up the right ridge and the men at the rope fell backwards under the slackened strain of the parting canvas; yet still the corners held. But for how long! Oh! would he never come out?
'Mr. Fitzgerald! Mr. Fitzgerald! be quick, oh please be quick.'