So much for Political, but the Prime Minister occupied another proud position, for Margaret France’s prophecy had been fulfilled, and Darsie was now captain of the Clough Fire Brigade. Beneath her were two lieutenants, and two companies, each seven girls strong, and the duty of choosing times of the utmost inconvenience and unpreparedness for drill alarms rested entirely at her discretion. When the fire-bell rang, every member of the brigade must leave whatever she happened to be about, and dash pell-mell to the assembling-ground on an upper story. There the force ranked up in order, the captain explained the locality and nature of the supposed conflagration, and each “man” received “his” own instruction—one to shut windows and ventilators, and so diminish draughts, another to uncoil the hose, a third to affix the nozzle, and so on. The work was accomplished, examined by the authorities, and the “men” were back on the top landing, ranked up in their original order, in an incredibly short space of time, when the captain gave a sharp criticism of the performance, followed by a few questions to test the general knowledge of the staff: Where was Mary Murray’s study? What was its aspect? What was the nearest water supply? Etcetera.
One excuse for non-attendance, and one only, was allowed to pass muster—a member who chanced to be in a hot bath what time the bell rang forth the alarm might lie at ease and smile at the scurry without, health and the risk of chill being considered before imaginary dangers. If, however, the bath were cold, out she must get, dash into the coat and skirt which, for members of the fire brigade, supplanted the ordinary dressing-gown, and take her place with the rest.
Nor—with Darsie Garnett as captain—was it any use to attempt deception, as a tired little Fresher discovered to her cost, when she naughtily turned a warm stream into her cold bath and refused to budge. No sooner were lightning-like instructions rapped out upstairs than down flew the irate captain, rapped at the door, demanded admission, and—in the absence of steam upon the wall—sentenced the cringing truant to a month’s suspension of privileges.
Nor was Darsie’s own position free from anxiety, for once in a term it was the prerogative of the brigade to surprise the captain, and woe befall her prestige if, on that occasion, she were found wanting! Coat, skirt, and slippers lay nightly on a chair by her bedside, together with the inevitable pile of notebooks, and she felt a burden off her mind when the alarm had come and gone.
Deep, deep down in the recesses of Darsie’s mind there slumbered a fell ambition. If there could be a real fire before her term of office expired! Not a serious one, of course—nothing to imperil the safety of the dear old house, but just sufficient to cause a real alarm, and give the brigade an opportunity of demonstrating its powers! It was almost too aggravating to be borne, to hear one morning that a second-year girl had indulged in a study fire, and had extinguished it of her own accord. Extinguished by private effort, when a captain, two lieutenants, and fourteen “men” were languishing for an opportunity to exhibit their powers! The captain spoke sternly to the second-year girl, and rebuked her.
“How,” she demanded, “can you expect a reliable force, if precious opportunities are to be wasted like this? Curtains ablaze, and the bedclothes singeing. We may wait for years for another such opportunity!”
“But where do I come in?” cried the second-year girl. “I gave ten and sixpence for that quilt. And a jug of water standing close at hand! It was only human nature—”
“I hope,” returned the captain of the Fire Brigade icily—“I hope that is not the spirit in which you propose to go through life. It’s a poor thing if you cannot sacrifice a ten-and-sixpenny quilt in the interest of the public good.” And she stalked majestically from the room.