"Antonia, do you hear me? What do I care about the laces? Where is Miss Wolfe?"
"She's mazed, miss!" said Mary, the cook. "She can't talk about nothin' but that stuff. Sure Miss Wolfe is at Fernley wid the mistress. It's wondher ye didn't meet them on the way, miss. She went wid Mrs. Peyton, and me and the other girls stopped behind to see what we could save."
"Oh, no!" cried Margaret. "Mrs. Peyton came alone. She said Miss Wolfe came back—for the jewels. She said she was in the house now."
"Lord help her then!" said the parlor-maid. "If she's in the house now, she's as good as dead, and worse, too. The stairs has fallen in; Thomas seen 'em fall. Oh, dear! oh, dear! what an awful time!"
"Be still, Eliza!" said the cook. "Where's Jenny? She was in the sewing-room, next to Miss Wolfe's; maybe she'd know something. Who saw Jenny since we come out? Good Lord, where is the child? I thought she come with me."
"Oh, Jenny's all right!" moaned Eliza. "She'll have gone straight home. She was going home to spend the night anyway, Mary; don't be scaring us worse. It's bad enough to lose Miss Wolfe, poor young lady, and she so bold and daring!"
"Hold your tongue!" said Peggy. "Listen to me, girls, and answer plainly, and not all at once like a flock of foolish sheep. Did any one see Miss Wolfe go into the house?"
"No, miss, no; we see her go with Mrs. Peyton, and we never thought but she was all right."
"She may not be there after all!" said Peggy. "Her room is on the other side, isn't it, Margaret? Come on!"
They ran round to the other side of the house. This was apparently still untouched, though the fiery tongues came darting over the rooftree every now and then, hissing and lapping, and the roof itself was covered with sparks and great patches of burning tinder, fragments of the costly stuffs and tissues that the house-owner had so dearly prized. The windows were closed and silent, but all was bright as day in the red glare of the fire.