The Nether Millstone

by Fred M. White

Something like an hour passed, an hour that seemed like eternity. The shouting and the tramping and the thudding were still going on. Then came a lull for the moment, and it seemed to Mary that somebody was calling her by name, somebody inside the house. She waited a moment, thinking perhaps that it was her excited fancy, but once more the call came, and this time from the corridor.

Mary thrilled as she heard the voice. At last they had discovered her absence. She opened the door and called in reply. The smoke was thick as ever, but there was no sign of flame. Out of the dense whirling mass a figure emerged and staggered breathlessly into the bedroom. It was the figure of a man with his handkerchief pressed to his mouth. He gasped for breath and closed the door behind him. His face was blackened and grimed with smoke, but Mary had no difficulty in recognising Ralph Darnley.

"Again," she said unsteadily, "you are like a guardian angel to me. This is the third time that you have come to save my life. Had they forgotten me?"

"It was all a misunderstanding," Ralph gasped. "In the confusion it was assumed that everybody was out of the house. Somebody professed to have seen you going off in the direction of the dower house. My landlord woke me up, saying that the Hall was on fire. And Lady Dashwood sent a message to ask if you were all right, and then we understood. It occurred to me that it would be impossible for you to escape by way of the window, and whilst the rest were discussing the best thing to be done, I made a dash for it. The house is full of the most blinding, suffocating smoke, but I can see no flames anywhere."

"And so you took your life in your hands like this for me?" Mary faltered. There was something almost of affection in the eyes which she turned on the stalwart figure by her side. "I was actually thinking of you at the very moment that you appeared. But how did you manage to find the way to this wing so easily?"

"I suppose by instinct," Ralph said. The question seemed to confuse him. "How brave and calm you are! But we are wasting time here. Mary, there is only one way for it. We shall have to fight our way through that smoke. There is no other chance. It will be quite a blindfold labour. But perhaps you could pick your way----"

"In the dark, with my eyes shut," Mary cried. "If I am to die, then at least I shall die in good company, with a brave, true man by my side. I shall not perish alone."

"You will not perish at all," Ralph said between his teeth. "You are reserved for a better and a sweeter fate than that, my darling. Heaven is going to rescue us for one another, despite your pride and despite anything that Mayfield may do. But these heroics are out of place in the face of the common danger. You have water here and towels?"

"Plenty of both in the dressing-room," Mary said. "What do you want them for?"

But Ralph made no reply. He had a stern task before him, and no time to waste in words. He took a couple of the largest towels and dipped them in the water jugs. Then he wrung out the moisture and wrapped the cold wet fabric round Mary's head. After he had led her to the door, he did the same for himself. Then he took Mary by the hand, and whispered that she was to lead the way.