He reached the landing at the top of the first flight. Through the Frenchman’s open doorway, a little way to the right, thick grey smoke was pouring. Moment by moment red-hot splinters crashed down upon the landing, and from above came the roar and crackle of the devouring flames.
“Mounseer!” Martin shouted; then caught his breath and coughed as the acrid smoke filled his throat.
His smarting eyes streamed with water. Half blinded, he pressed his lips firmly together and dashed across the landing into the open doorway. The room was thick with smoke: for a moment Martin was compelled to close his eyes; when he opened them again he saw flames bursting through the ceiling. Part of a blazing rafter fell at his feet, and he staggered back as innumerable sparks flew up in his face.
“Mounseer! Mounseer!” he spluttered.
There was no sound but the ever-growing roar of the flames.
Guessing from the denseness of the smoke that the windows were closed, unable to see anything clearly, Martin in desperation caught up a small stool which he had touched with his feet and hurled it in the direction of the window overlooking the waste ground at the back. There was a crash of breaking glass; the smoke began to pour out through the shattered pane, and taking advantage of the immediate lightening of the air Martin started to grope round the room in search of the Frenchman.
He stumbled against the table, knocked his shins against the edge of the bed, felt across it with his hands: there was no sign of Mounseer. Finding that he could breathe more freely near the floor he dropped on his hands and knees and began to crawl, wincing every now and then as he touched a fragment of burning wood.
He made for the cupboard in the corner, thinking that Mounseer might have been overpowered by the smoke as he stood to save some of his few possessions there. But there was no sign of him in the corner. He worked back, and had almost completed the tour of the room when, behind the door, he stumbled upon something hard. It was the sole of a shoe. In another moment he knew that the body of the Frenchman was stretched along the floor close against the wall.
Raising himself, he seized Mounseer’s feet and tried to drag him out upon the landing. But suddenly his strength failed: overcome by the smoke he fell gasping across the prostrate body, and lay for a few moments in a state of collapse.
Collecting himself with a great effort, he struggled to his feet and managed to pull the inert form as far as the doorway before once more faintness overtook him, and again he fell.