And, indeed, when the doors were opened, such a volume of hot, reeking steam came pouring in that it was with difficulty they could see anything. The steady sound of pumping was in their ears, and through the gloom they could still see darting tongues of flame rising up from the charred masses of woodwork and drapery that had once been gaily-decked stalls. The hiss of the water, the moving shapes of the firemen with their shining helmets, the desolation of the scene as compared with what it had been an hour before was something rather terrible to contemplate; and Sheila, clinging to Oscar’s arm, whispered a frightened query—
“Oh, tell me, has anybody been killed?”
“I believe not—I hope not; but some have been hurt and more have been terribly frightened. If the ladies with the children had not behaved splendidly when it broke out, they say there must have been a fearful loss of life; but nobody knows any details yet.”
“I think the only person who has absolutely disgraced himself is my brother Cyril,” said North, coming up to look for the missing ladies, his face still wearing the stern, set look that had characterised it throughout. That he felt Cyril’s behaviour keenly was self-evident. May took the arm he offered her, and said in her gracious way—
“But I suppose sometimes even a brave man may lose his head. I’m sure, if I could have moved hand or foot, I should have made a most frantic rush.”
“You did not do it, at any rate,” said North, with a straight look into May’s charming face that made her colour up to her ears—“and Cyril did. I think I could forgive him better if he were not my brother. And there was no immediate danger where we were. He had not that excuse. To push aside women and girls to effect his own escape——” The young man ceased suddenly, as though realising that in the stress of his feeling he was needlessly vituperating his own brother. But, as he said, it was the very fact of the close relationship that made the disgrace so hard to bear.
It was an easy descent to the street, though a strange experience, and Sheila stood beside May in the midst of the eager crowd, breathless, safe, and more keenly excited than she had ever been in her life before.
“Oh, Sheila,” she cried as, in response to North’s eager invitation, they all moved off together in the direction of River Street, “I have had my wish at last!”
“What wish?”
“Oh, don’t you remember what I said one day about wishing there could sometimes be danger to see what men and women would do? We were in danger to-day, were we not? And how splendidly so many of the people behaved!”