"Perhaps she has gone back to her room for her things. She had left everything behind when she came to rouse us."
"Impossible! She would not be so foolish. The fire is close to her room. Here are the engines. Why were they so long in coming?"
"Where is Martine? We must find her."
"No, no, Amy," and Mrs. Redmond laid her hand on her daughter's arm.
"But, mother, if she had not called us—"
"Yes, if she had not called us we might be in there now. She did not think of herself, and now she has gone to her room for some of her things."
"Her diamond perhaps;" and then, as if ashamed of her words, Priscilla added, "But I can help Amy, Mrs. Redmond. You cannot hurry as we must."
As Mrs. Redmond watched Amy and Priscilla running into the house she wished she had gone with them. Uncertainty was harder to bear than any effort she might have made. Her suspense, however, was not long, for to her relief she heard Amy's voice.
"Here's Martine, mamma. We had barely time to reach her. Look, look!"
This latter exclamation was called forth by the rapid spread of the flames. It was a beautiful sight—beautiful yet terrible to those who so lately had been within the walls that now seemed to be melting in the heat. Yet even as they gazed Martine began to laugh hysterically. "You look so—so queer—Priss—Prissie," she cried, and again she laughed. The light from the fire enabled them to see one another plainly, and as the others glanced at Priscilla they saw a black streak across her forehead that altogether changed her expression.