She knew that where lights went out life soon followed This light had illumined dimly the way to the tomb. This bed was her grave.
She summoned all her courage, and drew a long breath. She summoned all her strength, and uttered one cry:
"Help!"
There was a loud crash, a sound of breaking glass, a rush of fresh cool air. She fainted.
When she recovered consciousness she was out of the burning house, in her own garden, and standing by her was William Goddard, who had rescued her from the burning house.
That was the beginning of close acquaintance between the man and the widow. She regarded him as one who had delivered her from death, and all Richmond and all the world who read an account of the fire looked upon him in the same way. There was no doubt in the mind of any one that had not this William Goddard crept along the ledge running round both houses and taken the helpless woman out of the burning house that night, she would never have seen the dawn of another day.
Before the fire had time to spread beyond the kitchen and Mrs. Crawford's room, help had arrived, and the maids were roused and taken to a place of safety.
When Mrs. Farraday came back she received nearly as great a shock as if she too had been in that threatened room the night before. She loved the gentle, kindly Mrs. Crawford as she loved no other living woman. Her first impulse was to fall on her knees and give thanks that her life had been spared. She kissed and embraced the invalid, and vowed that not to see all the relatives in the world would she ever leave her dear friend alone again.
"Every one is too good to me," said Mrs. Crawford, kissing the other woman, with tears in her eyes; "and, for all we know to the contrary, the terror of last night may have been designed by Heaven for my good only."
"Your good only! How could such an awful fright and such awful suffering have been only for your good? You are not one who needs to be made pious by terror. You are a saint!"