If the young fellow intended to make a reply, he was prevented, for just then the rolling of a drum attracted his attention, and there was a murmur through the crowd that the lieutenant-governor was coming to see what could be done towards suppressing the conflagration.
The soldiers presented arms, as half a dozen plainly-dressed gentlemen walked towards the end of the line where Fred, Smith, and myself were stationed. They did not stop until within a few feet of us, and from the attention which was bestowed upon one man, I had no difficulty in deciding which was the governor.
"God bless me!" exclaimed the gentleman I supposed to be the governor, a rather small man, with gray hair, and, I judged, about sixty years of age; "God bless me!" he repeated, wringing his hands as though washing them, and gazing upon the fire, "what a dreadful conflagration."
"The fire is making great headway, your excellency," said one of the gentlemen in the governor's suite.
"God bless me, so it is," replied the governor. "How careless of the Jews to let their stores get on fire. They give me a great deal of trouble."
"But shall we not do something towards suppressing the flames?" asked the first speaker, with an impatient gesture.
"God bless me, what can I do?" cried the governor, peevishly.
"There are two small engines in the city—they might be brought here and worked to advantage," urged the aide-de-camp, for such I judged him to be.
"Yes, yes, I know; but, God bless me, they won't suck."