“Vere, Vere!” I shouted, and she clutched at my arm, and we ran together down the corridor, to the head of the servants’ stairs, back again faster than ever into the blue room where the men had let themselves down to the roof of the larder. There seemed just a chance that we might be able to do the same. It was the only chance I could think of, and Vere was clinging to me, begging me to save her, and not let her be burnt.
“I can’t die, Babs—I can’t! I’ve never thought of it. I’m frightened! Oh, Babs, Babs, think of something—think of a way—Save me! Save me!”
“I’ll try, Vere, but you must help, you must be quiet! The heat is not so bad here, and if we get on the roof and call, someone may hear us. They will come to look if they find we have gone. Oh, we should never have left that room! Father trusted us to wait for him, but it is too late now... Look, here’s a sheet: we must tear it into strips and make a rope. It will be easier that way.”
But when they tell you in books to make ropes of sheets, they forget that it’s almost impossible to tear strong new sheets, and that one cannot always find scissors in a strange room in the middle of the night. In the end, we could only knot the two together, and tie one end to the rail of the washstand. It was not long enough then, but I scrambled out and let myself down to the end, and then dropped, and by good providence managed to steady myself on the roof beneath. It was not so very sloping as roofs go, and the gutter was deep, and made a kind of little wall round the edge. I called to Vere to follow, and promised to catch her, but it took, oh, ages of coaxing and scolding before she would venture, and it was only by a miracle that we didn’t both fall to the ground, for she let go so suddenly and clutched at me in such frantic terror when I stretched up to catch her. We didn’t fall, however, but cowered down together on the roof with our feet fixed firmly against the projecting gutter, and I, for one, felt in a worse position than ever. We were still too far from the ground to jump down without hurting ourselves on the hard paving stones, and no one was in sight, no one heard our calls for help. To make things worse, in getting nearer the ground we had come nearer to the fire itself, for some of the windows on the ground floor had fallen in, and it was just like looking into the heart of a furnace. There is nothing more awful than the speed with which fire travels. One feels so utterly helpless before it. The tiles on which we sat were hot. I don’t know if it was fancy, but every now and then I seemed to feel a movement beneath us as if something might give way. I think now that it really was nervousness, for the roof was left practically unhurt, but at the time anything seemed possible, and I was terrified. We called and called again, but no one came, and it seemed as if hours passed by, and the fire came creeping nearer and nearer. Sometimes Vere would be frantic with excitement; sometimes she would cover her face with her hands and moan; sometimes she would be on the brink of fainting. I began to see that if something was not done at once she would faint, and then we would probably both fall to the ground together and be killed outright. Something had to be done, and I had to do it. I went creepy cold all down my spine, for I knew what it was I had to do, and was in mortal terror of facing it.
Somehow or other, if Vere were to be saved in time, I must get up from my cramped seat, lower myself over the edge of the roof, hang at full length from the coping and drop on to the flags beneath. The men had done it, but they were men, and it was a big drop even for them, and they haven’t got nerves like girls, or skirts, or slippers with heels. I was frightened out of my wits, but I knew that every moment I thought about it I should be more frightened still, so I just told Vere what I was going to do—and did it!
I can’t write about it; it makes me feel queer even now! The awful moment when you get over and swing into space; and the feeling that you must look down, the ache in your hands as you cling on, and the terror of leaving go! Mental pain is worse than physical, so it was really a relief to reach the ground, even though one foot did go over, and a pain like a red-hot poker shot up the leg. I thought I had broken the foot to pieces, but it was only the ankle that was sprained, and I could limp along, in a fashion, though so slowly that it took ages to get round to the front of the house. At another time I suppose I should have sat still and howled; but you don’t think of pain when it is a case of life and death, and I knew there was no time to spare.
It could not really have been very long since we left father’s room, but already the scene was quite changed. The alarm bell had roused the neighbourhood, and there was quite a little crowd on the lawn. I saw at a glance how it was that we had not been missed. The servants had rushed upstairs to the third storey, and were grouped together at a window there screaming and calling for help, while the poor men worked hard at lengthening the ladders. At a distance, and through the clouds of smoke, it was impossible to distinguish one figure from another, and everyone had taken for granted that we were there with the rest. Nobody noticed me hobbling forward till I got close up to the workers, and saw a well-known grey figure busy with the ropes. I pulled at his arm, and he lifted a white face, then leapt to his feet and seized me by both hands.
“You, Una! Here! Thank God! How is it possible? Which way did you come?”
“Out of a window—but, oh, don’t talk—you must save Vere first! Round at the back—now—at once! I’ll show you the way, but I can’t walk, my foot is hurt—”
I felt as if I could not keep up a moment longer, but Will picked me up in his arms as if I had been a baby, and said soothingly—