“It must be terrible,” assented Mrs. Green, like an amen.
“It's bad enough with the sins we've got on all our minds, the best of us,” continued Mrs. Babcock. “Think how them that's broken God's commandments an' committed murders an' robberies must feel. I shouldn't think they could stan' it, unless they burst right out an' confessed to everybody—should you, Mis' Field?”
“I guess so,” said Mrs. Field, in a hard voice.
Mrs. Babcock said no more; somehow she and the others felt repelled. They all sat in silence except for awed ejaculations when now and then came a louder crash of thunder. All at once, after a sharp flash, there was a wild clamor in the street; a bell clanged out.
“It's struck! it's struck!” shrieked Mrs. Babcock.
“Oh, it ain't this house, is it?” Amanda wailed.
They all rushed to the windows and flung open the blinds; a red glare filled the room; a large barn nearly opposite was on fire. They clutched each other, and watched the red gush of flame. The barn burned as if lighted at every corner.
“Are there any cows or horses in it?” panted Mrs. Babcock. “Oh, ain't it dreadful? Are there any, Mis' Field?”
“I dunno,” said Mrs. Field.
She stood like a grim statue, the red light of the fire in her face. Lois was sobbing. Mrs. Green had put an arm around her.