“And I give up!” she answered. “Now let me see if you are prepared to go into Gehenna. Are those clothes all wool?”
She made him turn round, tried with her own fingers the texture of his sleeve, ordered him to button his coat tightly at neck and wrists, so that no sparks could get in, and gave him a woollen scarf, which she commanded him to tie about his face at the proper time. Then they went out together, dropping their laughter at the door. For the wind blew in their faces a hard gale, and over the northwestern horizon glowed an angry aurora, and in the zenith still hung that cluster of stars.
They drove over to Mr. Marvin’s almost in silence. Carts partly filled with furniture stood at the avenue-gate, and trunks and packages had been set out on the steps, ready to be taken away. Two little children stood in the door, crying with fear, while a servant tried vainly to pacify them.
“Their mother told me to take them out to the village, to the Seaton House,” she said to Clara. “And they don’t want to go.”
Mrs. Marvin was up in the cupola, watching the progress of the fire.
Clara reassured the little ones, put them and the girl into the buggy with Charles Cleaveland, and sent them back home with him.
“But how are you to get back, Aunt Clara?” he asked.
“Oh! in the same way the people out here do,” she answered. “I shall not be alone. Drive along, Charley. The horse won’t bear this smoke much longer. He begins to dance now.”
As soon as they had gone, she started off through the woods. Captain Cary had already preceded her, thinking that she meant to await him at the house.