I dashed in the first door I came to. A lady, partially clothed, stood there pale as death, and motionless.
“Quick, madam! descend! the house is on fire!” I gasped in sharp sentences as I seized her. “Where is your—your (she looked young) sister?” I cried, as she resisted my efforts to lead her out.
“I’ve no sister!” she shrieked.
“Your daughter, then! Quick, direct me!”
“Oh! my darling!” she cried, wringing her hands.
“Where?” I shouted in desperation, for the smoke was thickening.
“Up-stairs,” she screamed, and rushed out, intending evidently to go up.
I caught her round the waist and forced her down the stairs, thrust her into the arms of an ascending fireman, and then ran up again, taking three steps at a time. The cry of a child attracted me. I made for a door opposite, and burst it open. The scene that presented itself was striking. Out of four cribs and a cradle arose five cones of bed-clothes, with a pretty little curly head surmounting each cone, and ten eyes blazing with amazement. A tall nurse stood erect in the middle of the floor with outstretched arms, glaring.
Instantly I grasped a cone in each arm and bore it from the room. Blinded with smoke, I ran like a thunderbolt into the arms of a gigantic fireman.
“Take it easy, sir. You’ll do far more work if you keep cool. Straight on to front room! Fire-escape’s there by this time.”