"It's hardly large enough to bother to put out," exclaimed Mr. Schuler, "if it weren't that the chimney seems to be so shaken that the flames might work through somewhere and set fire to the woodwork."
"There's no doubt about something serious having happened to the chimney," and Mrs. Schuler stooped and pushed back three or four bricks that had tumbled forward on to the hearth.
"The back is cracked," she announced from her knees. "With that big crack on the kitchen side I rather think Moya had better use the oil stove until Mr. Emerson can send a bricklayer to examine the chimney."
"Everything but this seems all right here; you'd better go up and try to calm the women," advised Mr. Schuler.
The wind storm was dying down and the inmates of Rose House were becoming quieter as the din outside moderated. The Matron went from room to room bringing comfort and courage as her candle shone upon one frightened face after another.
"It's all over; there's nothing to be afraid of," she said over and over again. Only to Moya did she tell what had happened to the chimney, so that she might prepare breakfast on the oil stove.
"It almost seems I heard a giant fall down the chimney," the Irish girl whispered hoarsely.
"I dare say you did hear the bricks falling. There's a gallon or two of soot in the dining-room fireplace for you to clean up in the morning."
"'Tis easy, that, compared wid cleaning up the whole house that seemed like to tumble!" said Moya with a sigh of relief.
The children were already asleep and the remainder of the night was unbroken by any sound save the dripping of the raindrops from the branches and the swish of wet leaves against each other when a light breeze revived their former activities.