there was no longer any question as to the house being on fire. very rapidly mary proceeded to don her clothing; her idea afterwards was to alarm the house. the girl was not conscious of any feeling of fear, though she was trembling from head to foot. she had had but a poor night's rest, and the strain of the previous day had tried her. and now as she huddled into her clothing, she was conscious of a kind of relief, the feeling that if the house was burnt down a way had been found out of her troubles.
there was an emotion almost of gladness in the thought. but the pride of race and place came back, and mary hastened to her task. dashwood hall must be saved at any cost--the historic house must not be allowed to perish. there were pictures and works of art there that had almost a national interest.
mary flung the door open and strode boldly into the corridor, but she did not gain a yard before she was driven back by a dense mass of suffocating smoke. the corridor was filled with it, thick, black, and overpowering. it was absolutely impossible to force a way through that blinding cloud. mary screamed at the top of her voice, but no reply came. already her brain began to reel, already her lungs almost ceased to work. there was only one thing for it--to shut the door and seek for some other exit.
back in the bedroom the air was comparatively pure. the window looked on to a green court with a high hedge of clipped yew trees beyond. it was one of the quietest and most shady rooms in the house, and mary had chosen it for that very reason. in the winter she occupied another apartment. but its very quietness frightened the girl now. as she looked out of the small diamond casement in the great stone mullion, she realised that it would be impossible for any grown figure to squeeze through. she might have taken the risk of jumping down on to the grass, but the bars of the mullion window were too close together to permit of the attempt. and already the draught from the open window was drawing the smoke into the room.
listening intently, mary could hear the sound of shouts and the tramping of feet; now, she caught the echo of horses' hoofs as mounted messengers galloped down the drive. she shouted aloud, but nobody appeared to hear her. the thick high hedge of yews seemed to smother her voice. it was dreadful to be caught in a trap like that, but mary resolved to meet her fate bravely.
probably the volume of smoke would cause unconsciousness long before the dreaded fire reached its victim. there would be no pain or suffering. it seemed to mary that she had heard people speak of such things before. well, she would die alone, and nobody would know how the end had come.
not quite alone! suddenly mary remembered that old patience was in the dressing-room and looked towards the couch there.
she rubbed her eyes in astonishment. patience was no longer there. perhaps she had not been able to sleep, probably she had aroused herself very early and gone about her business. at any rate, she was not in the dressing-room, and mary felt glad of it. the horror of the situation was lessened by the absence of the demented woman.
greatly daring, mary opened the window and screamed for help once more. she could hear yells and calls, and presently the steady throb of what she knew to be an engine. but all the time the smoke was growing thicker and denser in the room. so far mary could not hear the crackling of flames, she was not sensible of the fact that the room was getting any warmer. there was always the hope that the fire might be subdued before it got a good hold of the building. a great deal of timber had gone to the building of dashwood hall, but the walls were of the most solid masonry, and it was quite possible for the fire to burn out a room or two without going any farther.
something like an hour passed, an hour that seemed like eternity. the shouting and the tramping and the thudding were still going on. then came a lull for the moment, and it seemed to mary that somebody was calling her by name, somebody inside the house. she waited a moment, thinking perhaps that it was her excited fancy, but once more the call came, and this time from the corridor.
mary thrilled as she heard the voice. at last they had discovered her absence. she opened the door and called in reply. the smoke was thick as ever, but there was no sign of flame. out of the dense whirling mass a figure emerged and staggered breathlessly into the bedroom. it was the figure of a man with his handkerchief pressed to his mouth. he gasped for breath and closed the door behind him. his face was blackened and grimed with smoke, but mary had no difficulty in recognising ralph darnley.
"again," she said unsteadily, "you are like a guardian angel to me. this is the third time that you have come to save my life. had they forgotten me?"
"it was all a misunderstanding," ralph gasped. "in the confusion it was assumed that everybody was out of the house. somebody professed to have seen you going off in the direction of the dower house. my landlord woke me up, saying that the hall was on fire. and lady dashwood sent a message to ask if you were all right, and then we understood. it occurred to me that it would be impossible for you to escape by way of the window, and whilst the rest were discussing the best thing to be done, i made a dash for it. the house is full of the most blinding, suffocating smoke, but i can see no flames anywhere."
"and so you took your life in your hands like this for me?" mary faltered. there was something almost of affection in the eyes which she turned on the stalwart figure by her side. "i was actually thinking of you at the very moment that you appeared. but how did you manage to find the way to this wing so easily?"
"i suppose by instinct," ralph said. the question seemed to confuse him. "how brave and calm you are! but we are wasting time here. mary, there is only one way for it. we shall have to fight our way through that smoke. there is no other chance. it will be quite a blindfold labour. but perhaps you could pick your way----"
"in the dark, with my eyes shut," mary cried. "if i am to die, then at least i shall die in good company, with a brave, true man by my side. i shall not perish alone."
"you will not perish at all," ralph said between his teeth. "you are reserved for a better and a sweeter fate than that, my darling. heaven is going to rescue us for one another, despite your pride and despite anything that mayfield may do. but these heroics are out of place in the face of the common danger. you have water here and towels?"
"plenty of both in the dressing-room," mary said. "what do you want them for?"
but ralph made no reply. he had a stern task before him, and no time to waste in words. he took a couple of the largest towels and dipped them in the water jugs. then he wrung out the moisture and wrapped the cold wet fabric round mary's head. after he had led her to the door, he did the same for himself. then he took mary by the hand, and whispered that she was to lead the way.
the task was no easy one, well as mary knew every inch of the house. she felt her way to the top of the stairs at length, but her head seemed like bursting now. still, the pressure of ralph's hand gave her courage. with him by her side, she felt like daring anything. as presently the air began to grow cooler and sweeter, it seemed to mary that she was conscious of the scent of the roses.
then the cloth was pulled from her face, and she felt the full delight of her lungs again. a great crowd had gathered on the lawn, the people burst into a torrent of cheers. it was all like a dream to mary. she saw that ralph was standing by her side breathless and triumphant.
"do not crowd us like that," he said. "please let miss dashwood have as much air as possible. neither of us is the least hurt by the fire; indeed, so far as i can see, this is no fire at all. has anybody a conveyance that will take miss dashwood as far as the dower house? it is only a little way, but still----"
there were scores of people ready to comply with the request. then the crowd parted as if by a kind of instinct, and lady dashwood appeared. she was pale and breathless, but not for one moment did she forget herself or her position.
"my dear child," she said, "you must come with me at once. fancy you being in that house all the time and nobody any the wiser! and they tell me that a gentleman who is a stranger here volunteered for your rescue in the bravest possible manner. if he is here i should like to thank him warmly for----"
"this is mr. ralph darnley," mary explained. "he is not a stranger, for we met in paris two years ago. let me introduce mr. darnley to you."
ralph bowed and moved towards the hand that lady dashwood held out to him. there were gracious words on his lips.
"it is impossible to thank you," she said, "but if you will come as far as the dower house with me, i dare say that i shall be able to--to----"
the words seemed to freeze as lady dashwood's glance travelled over ralph's face. lady dashwood took a step forward and would have fallen if ralph had not put out an arm and supported her. then there was an awkward silence.
