But Frank spoke to deaf ears; so he coolly lifted the man in his arms, carried him kicking downstairs, and placed him in charge of a policeman.
Just then, a cry was raised that there were two kegs of gunpowder in one of the shops on the ground floor. The owner of the shop came up in a frantic state, and corroborated this statement.
“It’ll blow the house to bits, sir,” he said to Mr Braidwood.
“Of course it will,” remarked the latter in a quiet voice. “Come here, my man,” he added, taking the shopkeeper apart from the crowd, and questioning him closely.
Immediately after, he ordered the engines to play on a particular part of the building.
Just then, Frank came up to the superintendent.
“There’s gunpowder in the back-shop somewhere, I’m told, sir; shall I go in for it?”
“No, Willders; you couldn’t find it in the smoke. Take the branch, lad, and get up into that window above the door.”
Frank sprang to obey. At the same time, Mr Braidwood suddenly seized a horse-cloth, and dashed in through the smoke. In a few seconds, he returned with one of the kegs of powder in his arms. Giving it to one of his men, he darted in again, and speedily re-issued with the second keg of powder, amid the frantic cheering of the crowd. Having done this, he continued to superintend the men until the fire was got under, which was soon accomplished, having been attacked promptly and with great vigour soon after it broke out.
“You needn’t wait, Mr Dale,” said Braidwood, going up to his foreman. “It’s all safe now. I’ll keep one engine; but you and your lads get off to your beds as fast as ye can.”