In the Roar of the Sea

by S. Baring-Gould

She stood still. The smell was strong. She climbed the hedge on one side and looked over; as far as she could discern in the red glimmer from the flushed sky there was no one there. She listened, she could hear no step. She walked hastily on to a gate in the hedge on the opposite side and went through that. The smell of burning tobacco was as strong there. Judith turned in the lane and walked back in the direction of the house. The smell pursued her. It was strange. Could she carry the odor in her clothes? She turned again and resumed her walk toward Othello Cottage. Now she was distinctly aware that the scent came to her on the wind. Her perplexity on this subject served as a diversion of her mind from her own troubles.

She emerged upon the downs, and made her way across them toward the cottage that lay in a dip, not to be observed except by one close to it. The wind when it brushed up from the sea was odorless.

Presently she came in sight of Othello Cottage, and in spite of the darkness could see that a strange, dense, white fog surrounded it, especially the roof, which seemed to be wearing a white wig. In a moment she understood what this signified. Othello Cottage was on fire, and the stores of tobacco in the attic were burning. Judith ran. Her own troubles were forgotten in her alarm for Jamie. No fire as yet had broken through the roof.

She reached the door, which was open. Mr. Scantlebray in leaving had not shut the door, so as to allow the boy to crawl out should he recover sufficient intelligence to see that he was in danger.

It is probable that Scantlebray, senior, would have made further efforts to save Jamie, but that he believed he would meet with his brother, and two or three men he was bringing with him, near the house, and then it would be easy unitedly to drag the boy forth. He did, indeed, meet with Obadiah, but also at the same time with Uncle Zachie Menaida and a small party of farm-laborers, and when he heard that Mr. Menaida desired help to secure Coppinger and the smugglers, he thought no more of the boy and joined heartily in the attempt to rescue the Preventive men and take Coppinger.

Through the open door dashed Judith, crying out to Jamie whom she could not see. There was a dense, white cloud in the room, let down from above, and curling out at the top of the door, whence it issued as steam from a boiler. It was impossible to breathe in this fog of tobacco-smoke, and Judith knew that if she allowed it to surround her she would be stupefied. She therefore stooped and entered, calling Jamie. Although the thick mattress of white smoke had not as yet descended to the floor, and had left comparatively clear air beneath it—the in-draught from the door—yet the odor of the burning tobacco impregnated the atmosphere. Here and there curls of smoke descended, dropped capriciously from the bed of vapor above, and wantonly played about.

Judith saw her brother lying at full length near the fire. Scantlebray had drawn him partly to the door, but he had rolled back to his former position near the hearth, perhaps from feeling the cold wind that blew in on him.

There was no time to be lost. Judith knew that flame must burst forth directly—directly the burning tobacco had charred through the rafters and flooring of the attic and allowed the fresh air from below to rush in and, acting as a bellows, blow the whole mass of glowing tobacco into flame. It was obvious that the fire had originated above in the attic. There was nothing burning in the room, and the smoke drove downward in strips through the joints of the boards overhead.

“Jamie, come, come with me!” She shook the boy, she knelt by him and raised him on her knee. He was stupefied with cognac, and with the fumes of the burning tobacco he had inhaled.

She must drag him forth. He was no longer half-conscious as he had been when Mr. Scantlebray made the same attempt; the power to resist was now gone from him.