Again all looked indignantly at him. That instrument had a way of always sounding out of key.
“There was nothing coorious at all in it,” answered the churchwarden, with promptitude. “It was just because everyone was away that the fire got the upper hand.”
“There’s something in that,” said the hautboy.
“There is everything,” answered Pasco. “If I or my wife had been at the Cellars, we would have speedily called help and had the fire extinguished before it could take hold. No one was there, so it was allowed freedom to get the mastery, and then, no one could do nothing.”
“That’s true,” said the second violin.
“It’s true,” said the rest of the instruments in unison, looking into each other’s faces; “it couldn’t be truer.”
“You don’t happen to know how the fire came about?” asked the clarionet.
“I don’t know,” answered the churchwarden.
“You don’t know,” repeated the violoncello, “but you guess.”
“I have my ideas,” observed Pasco. “Gents! let me fill your glasses again.”