Like a Flash She Slid Down the Steepest Part of the Roof.
It is said that a great many things pass through one’s mind at such brief, tense moments as these, when death is almost certain.
The thought that came to Bab’s mind, however, was her mother’s prayer, “Heaven make me calm in the face of danger.”
There was, of course, a shudder of horror, a wild, ineffectual effort to save herself—a shock.
When she opened her eyes, three pairs of arms encircled her, and three sobbing faces hovered over her. She had landed upon the roof of the balcony where the girls were waiting. Except for a bruised arm, she had met with no harm.
“Why, girlies,” she said, smiling a little weakly, “were you so frightened?” and then closed her eyes again.
Zerlina and John came tumbling down the ladder. The Gypsy girl was as white as a sheet and old John was openly sobbing.
“I’m all right,” Bab assured them, standing up and shaking herself to bring her senses back. She bathed her throbbing wrists and temples, and all climbed down into the lower regions of the house. It was decided to water the side of the house, and after that nothing more could be done. The whole place was lit up with the burning stable, and sparks were flying in every direction. The wind had risen to a gale and the skies were overhung with a black canopy of clouds kindled by occasional flashes of lightning. There was a low grumbling sound of thunder. Down the avenue came the clatter of horses’ hoofs. At the same time there was a terrific clap, and the rain poured down in torrents.