“The wind must be blowing from the mountains to-day,” she observed. “I smell burning as plainly as if it were at our gates.”
“But, Miss Sallie,” said Grace, “remember that it smelt like this in New York last week.”
“My dear,” replied Miss Sallie, “I am perfectly familiar with the smell of burning forests, I have smelt them so often in imagination. Why, see, the air is filled with fine ashes,” she exclaimed, shaking out her lavender skirts with disgust. She had hardly spoken before a tall figure was seen hurrying across the lawn.
“It’s blind Jennie,” cried Ruth. “Perhaps she can give us news of the major or José.”
As old Jennie approached they could see she was fearfully excited. Her face was working and several times she waved her stick wildly in the air. Just then a strange thing happened. Half a dozen terrified deer appeared from the direction of the forest, dashed madly across the lawn and disappeared in a grove on the other side. Squirrels and rabbits followed by the dozens, while distracted birds flew in groups and circled around and around the tops of the trees.
“What has happened, Jennie?” cried Ruth, shaking the blind woman by the arm.
Jennie seemed to scan the company with her sightless eyes, sniffing the air wildly.
“The woods are burning,” she said. “The flames are coming nearer. They are slow, but they are sure. Everything is so dry. You must hurry, if you would save the house!”
“Save the house?” repeated Miss Stuart mechanically. “Do you mean to say there is danger of this house being burned down? Is the fire coming this way? Great heavens! Order the car at once, children. We must leave at any cost. This is the last straw!”
“But, Aunt Sallie,” urged Ruth, laying a detaining hand on her aunt’s arm, “you wouldn’t have us desert the major’s house, would you, and leave all these beautiful things to burn? Besides, we may be running away from the major and the boys. How do we know but that they are in the woods? They may need our help.”