FIRE AND FLAME
Long after the others had left her Martine sat alone. She was restless
and wide-awake, and any one looking at her would have seen that her face
was far less cheerful than usual. Her thoughts, indeed, were disturbed,
and one or two tears fell as she held her mother's portrait before her
and looked earnestly into the deep blue eyes.
The portrait was a miniature, painted in the days when her mother was
almost as young in appearance as Martine herself, though in fact she had
been married for several years. The young girl especially valued it
because she could remember perfectly when her mother had been very like
the lady in the picture, and also because this miniature had not been
copied. It was too valuable a thing for Martine to carry with her when
travelling.
Mrs. Blair's letter, with its mention of her mother's poor health, had
stirred her deeply. She had concealed her feelings in the presence of
Mrs. Redmond and the girls; or rather, for the moment she had been more
impressed by the suggestion that came to her, through Mrs. Blair's
signature, of a connection between her family and the Airtons. Now,
however, she began to dwell on the significance of the news from
Carlsbad, and the conclusion was hard to set aside that her mother's
condition was even worse than her father's brief letters had given her
to understand. Putting away the miniature with a sigh, she drew the last
two letters from the portfolio, reading and re-reading them in a vain
effort to decide whether her father had written briefly merely to
conceal his feelings.
"It's strange that men always write so little in a letter. Though papa
would always rather telegraph than write, still, when he does write, I
_do_ think that he might say something. Now if it were mamma, why, she
would tell me everything;" and upon this, with the knowledge that it
might be long before her mother could write to her, Martine burst into
tears. As she tossed the letters aside Martine threw herself on her bed,
and then--
How long she had lain there she did not know, although rising with a
start, she realized that she had fallen asleep, and almost as quickly
she perceived a strong smell of smoke in the room.
Opening her door, she turned toward the ell where Mrs. Redmond and the
two girls had their rooms. The smell of smoke was stronger there, and in
the darkness some one brushed against her, crying, "The house must be on
fire." With a leap Martine reached the top floor where her friends were.
Mrs. Redmond's door opened to her knock, and then she rapped loudly on
the door of the room that Amy and Priscilla occupied together.
"Fire, fire!" she called, and in a moment Mrs. Redmond's voice was added
to hers.
"Open the door, Amy; don't wait to dress. Come, come, don't you
understand? The house is on fire."
"Yes, yes, we are dressing."
"Unlock the door; I can help bring out some of your things."
The hall was thick with smoke. Mrs. Redmond and Martine knew that the
fire was near. Amy's voice was heard from the room--or was it
Amy?--speaking almost in terror, "I cannot open the door; I have mislaid
the key."
"Why did you take it from the lock? Oh, Amy!"
Mrs. Redmond uttered no further reproof now. It was a time for action.
"Martine," she cried, "we must go for help." But Martine made no reply.
Already she was far on her way downstairs. All the people in the house
were now evidently aware of the fire. Doors were slamming, and she heard
steps and voices ahead of her. In spite of her difficulty in making her
way through the thick smoke, Martine soon found herself near the broad
front door. Here two or three men were standing.
"Please help me quickly," cried Martine, breathlessly; "my friends are
in a room in the wing, and cannot open the door. Come, I will show you."
Leading the way, Martine was soon at Amy's door again. She could see no
one, for there were no lights in the hall, but she recognized Mrs.
Redmond's voice.
"I found a pair of large scissors in my valise; perhaps with them the
lock can be pried open."
One of the men who had come with Martine was already pounding on the
panels of the door to learn where it could most easily be broken in.
After one ineffectual effort to pry open the lock, the other one had
thrown down the scissors that Mrs. Redmond had handed him. Both of these
things had occupied seconds rather than minutes,--seconds that seemed
hours to Martine and Mrs. Redmond,--and then, before further violence
had been done to the door, there was a click, a turn of the lock, and
Amy and Priscilla stood before the four others. Their appearance showed
that they had indeed dressed hastily, but they made no apologies as they
hurried on.
When they reached the street Mrs. Redmond drew a breath of relief. "Oh,
Amy," she cried, "how could you be so careless?"
"I took the key from the door absent-mindedly, and had set my
travelling-bag on it. I'm thankful enough that I found it, for the door
might have been hard to break in."
"Look, look!" cried Priscilla, excitedly. "We are out none too soon."
As she spoke flames were bursting from the wing of the house that they
had so lately left, and men and women were pouring in and out of the
main building, removing furniture, pictures, and clothes.
"Let me count you," cried Mrs. Redmond. "I am not sure--"
"It's Martine, mamma,--she is not with us. Where did she go?"
[Illustration: "After one ineffectual effort to pry open the lock,
the other one had thrown down the scissors."]
"Perhaps she has gone back to her room for her things. She had left
everything behind when she came to rouse us."
"Impossible! She would not be so foolish. The fire is close to her room.
Here are the engines. Why were they so long in coming?"
"Where is Martine? We must find her."
"No, no, Amy," and Mrs. Redmond laid her hand on her daughter's arm.
"But, mother, if she had not called us--"
"Yes, if she had not called us we might be in there now. She did not
think of herself, and now she has gone to her room for some of her
things."
"Her diamond perhaps;" and then, as if ashamed of her words, Priscilla
added, "But I can help Amy, Mrs. Redmond. You cannot hurry as we must."
As Mrs. Redmond watched Amy and Priscilla running into the house she
wished she had gone with them. Uncertainty was harder to bear than any
effort she might have made. Her suspense, however, was not long, for to
her relief she heard Amy's voice.
"Here's Martine, mamma. We had barely time to reach her. Look, look!"
This latter exclamation was called forth by the rapid spread of the
flames. It was a beautiful sight--beautiful yet terrible to those who so
lately had been within the walls that now seemed to be melting in the
heat. Yet even as they gazed Martine began to laugh hysterically. "You
look so--so queer--Priss--Prissie," she cried, and again she laughed.
The light from the fire enabled them to see one another plainly, and as
the others glanced at Priscilla they saw a black streak across her
forehead that altogether changed her expression.
"It's a case where the pot can't call the kettle black," rejoined Amy;
"your own complexion is not milk-white at the present moment, Martine."
"You are the only one who has her hair properly arranged, Miss Amy. Even
your mother has a hasty coiffure, and no collar. Oh, Mrs. Redmond!" and
again Martine laughed nervously.
"It matters less how we look than how we feel. I wish that you, like
Priscilla, had brought your coat, though I fear there is only one hat
among us."
"What a noise the engine makes! Can't we get away soon?"
"I hope so. If we only had a man with us we could send him off for a
carriage. Even Fritz would be useful now."
From her mother's tone Amy could not judge whether or not she was in
earnest, though in truth the same thought had come to her.
"After all," cried Martine, holding up her watch, "it is not half-past
eleven. I had begun to think that to-morrow had come. The flames are not
so bright. I believe that the fire is dying down. It started in so well
that I almost hoped that we'd see the house in ashes."
"Oh, Martine!"
"But nearly all the furniture has been saved, and the house is probably
insured, and--"
"You are shivering, Martine. Come, we must make our way through the
crowd. Even if we have to walk down to the large hotel near the station,
that will be better than staying here."
So they made their way through the crowd. Heaps of household goods and
pieces of furniture were scattered over the lawn, and even on the
sidewalk in front. The engine was still hissing, flames were still
darting from back and sides of the house that had so lately sheltered
them.
Hardly had the four reached the street when a man's voice called, "Stop,
ladies, for a moment." As they halted, the man, whose outline they could
barely distinguish, overtook them. "You are the American ladies whose
doors I tried to break open a little while ago. I would have helped you
further, but I had to return immediately to my sister, who has been ill,
and who is now in a neighbor's house. I have been anxious about you, for
you are strangers. Have you plans, or will you permit me to make a
suggestion?"
"We shall be only too happy to hear your suggestion, Mr.--"
"Taunton," quickly rejoined the stranger, as Mrs. Redmond paused,
adding, "I would suggest that you come with me to the house where I have
taken my sister, and I may say that I have been asked to bring you back
with me. The house is large, and you can all get a good night's rest."
It is needless to say that Mr. Taunton's invitation was gratefully
accepted, and soon the four found themselves in a warm room, where a
hospitable little hostess bustled about, offering them tea, and bread
and butter, though after all it wasn't a meal-time.
"She's very good," murmured Martine to Amy, "not to mention how queer we
look. For my own part, I haven't dared look a mirror in the face, though
there are two in the room. How much has happened in the last hour!--for
it is only a little more than an hour since we knew of the fire; that
is, since I smelled smoke."
"I hope that it wasn't long enough for you and Priscilla to catch cold.
We shall never forget how chilly the air of an August midnight can be."
"Oh, I am all right," responded Martine. And then, as if to disprove her
own words, she sneezed violently.
"Why did you go back to your room, Martine? It was a dangerous thing to
do. You brought nothing out with you but that little bag."
"Oh, I had barely time to get that. The room was so hot and smoky that I
quite lost my head, yet I got what I especially went for;" and she
opened the little bag and drew from it a small velvet case.
"Your diamond!" cried Amy. "Ah, Martine, how foolish to have had it with
you!"
"No, Amy, not my diamond pin;" and snapping a spring she disclosed the
miniature of her mother.
"That is more to me than ten diamond pins. I had barely time to snatch
it from the bureau and pick up this bag."
"Then you left the pin behind!"
"No, child, no; it is safely hung around my neck. But one of my rings
was on the cushion, and it will delight Priscilla's heart to know that I
did not save a single brush or silver-topped bottle. It will be rather
hard for papa, for he'll have to replace them all next Christmas. But I
do wish that I had my hat and my suit case. Until we overtake our trunks
at Halifax we can't make ourselves perfectly respectable."
"But still," rejoined Amy, "I am thankful that we have a place where we
can sleep to-night--and mamma is beckoning us, so let us follow."
It was nine o'clock, and the sun was streaming brightly through their
windows before Mrs. Redmond and the girls left their rooms next morning.
All but Priscilla had slept well, but the latter had tossed about all
night, with her thoughts dwelling more on Martine even than on the
exciting events of the fire. Clearly Martine had acted very generously
in the efforts she had made to awaken the others. She had had ample time
to save all her own possessions, yet quite neglectful of herself, her
one thought had been for others. If Priscilla was sometimes harsh in her
criticisms, she at least wished to be fair. After her night of confused
thoughts, it was not strange, perhaps, that Priscilla awoke heavy-eyed
and dull, thus causing Mrs. Redmond to wonder whether this one
experience might not undo all the good accomplished during their weeks
in Acadia.
Martine was still inclined to sneeze, but she laughed when caught in the
act.
"It sounds like hay fever, doesn't it? I have never had a fashionable
ailment before, and if it is hay fever, why, I am in the part of the
world where patients are often sent, and my recovery will be rapid."
After breakfast Mr. Taunton, their new acquaintance, offered to help
Mrs. Redmond in any way that she might suggest. "You may wish your
luggage or your tickets attended to--or, or your shopping," he
concluded. "My sister and I saved both our trunks, and she is resting so
comfortably this morning that I can put myself at your service."
"I do not wonder that you speak of shopping. We could hardly go even as
far as the station without buying a few necessary things. If we could
have a carriage in about an hour we could do some errands. We are going
to Halifax by the afternoon train."
"You have lost more than most of the other boarders, in proportion to
what you had in the house," continued Mr. Taunton. "Our late landlady is
the heaviest loser, but she is a cheerful little body, and consoles
herself with the thought that she is well insured."
"Don't forget to pay our board bill, mamma; it just occurred to me that
we left so unexpectedly that we forgot even to mention it to her,"
interrupted Amy.
Mr. Taunton laughed heartily at her suggestion, and then began an
earnest plea for his own city, St. John, in contrast with Halifax.
"If you can visit but one, St. John is the better worth seeing. We come
to Nova Scotia occasionally to rest, but St. John is wide-awake, and its
churches and public buildings will compare favorably with any in the
United States. Then you have heard of our wonderful reversible falls,
that flow with the tide one way and with the river the other, and the
beautiful Kennebecasis--"
"You would make a good tourist agent," interrupted their amiable
hostess, Mrs. Andrews, entering the room at this moment. "But if I
should begin to paint the charms of the Citadel, and old St. Paul's, and
the Northwest Arm, and--"
Mr. Taunton laughed. "It's a feud as old as the hills, this rivalry
between St. John and Halifax, and a stranger can settle the matter for
himself only by seeing both places; but if you must give up either, I
honestly believe that you can best spare Halifax."
Before Mrs. Andrews could protest, a violent ringing of the doorbell
called her from the room. A second later she returned to the
sitting-room, followed by two young men.
In an instant half a dozen tongues were loudly exclaiming, "Why, Fritz,
how in the world did you find us?" Mrs. Redmond held the hand of one of
the new-comers while she looked affectionately up into his face; Amy,
drawing back a little, appeared far from displeased at this sudden
appearance; and Martine,--Priscilla could hardly believe her eyes,--yes,
Martine had certainly thrown her arms around the neck of Fritz's
companion, who was no other than the Freshman "Taps," of whom Priscilla
had had a passing glimpse on the Yarmouth boat.
While Priscilla gasped in amazement Mrs. Redmond and Amy could not
conceal their surprise at Martine's demonstrativeness. But they had not
to wait long for the explanation, which Martine herself saw was due
them.
"There, there, Lucian, don't be too affectionate until I explain--"
"Explain what?" asked the so-called "Taps."
"Wait, listen;" and slipping her arm through that of Fritz's friend,
Martine turned with a bow toward Mrs. Redmond.
"Let me introduce to you and Amy and Priscilla, as well as to the rest
of the company, my brother, Lucian Stratford, otherwise 'Taps.' There,
Lucian, don't say a word. Let me explain how it was. Of course at first
we didn't mean to make any secret of it, but Lucian and I thought it
would be fun to see whether you could tell whether we were brother and
sister, and he made Fritz--I mean Mr. Tomkins--promise not to tell you.
It seemed rather funny that you hadn't heard. Then when Amy was so
sniffy--excuse me, Amy--about having boys in the party, why, I had to
promise not to tell. It was hard at first, but I got interested in
keeping it up when I found that Priscilla was so suspicious."
Priscilla, coloring, looked more and more uncomfortable, Mrs. Redmond
was slowly grasping the situation, and only Amy appeared to be angry.
"It's like you, Fritz," she exclaimed, "to go out of your way to play a
practical joke on me, but I did expect something better from Martine."
Martine's face grew serious.
"I can't see that the joke affects you, particularly, Miss Amy Redmond!"
rejoined Fritz. "To be sure, you have had various accidents that might
not have happened had we been with you to protect you, but as to knowing
that 'Taps' was Martine Stratford's brother, why, you could have found
that out for yourself, or at any rate I should have told you only too
gladly had you given me a chance. But when you banished me so
completely--"
"Come, come, children, no quarrelling. We won't banish you again, Fritz,
and if you feel like going on with us we shall be only too happy to have
your company. Your coming now is certainly most opportune. You can do so
much to help us; we have shopping--But first let me introduce you to Mr.
Taunton, who has been so kind to us, and to Mrs. Andrews, our hostess,
and to the others."
After the introductions Fritz explained why they had come to Windsor.
"Halifax may be slow, but it is reached by telegraph, and the daily
papers contain some news, so when I saw the headlines 'Fire at Windsor,'
I naturally read the whole thing, for, according to the schedule which
Lucian had from his sister, you were due here yesterday, or the day
before, and we had even thought of running up to meet you."
"Though we decided it would be better sport to take you by surprise at
Halifax," interposed Lucian.
"Yes, and when we read that some American ladies had barely escaped with
their clothes--"
"Not all of their clothes," murmured Martine.
"We thought," continued Fritz, "that we'd risk it by rushing up here."
"So we bolted our breakfast," interposed Taps, "and made the 'Yankee'
and--"
"We poked among the ruins," added Fritz," and when we didn't find any
remains, we asked a few questions of some others who were poking there."
"And here we are," concluded Taps, "and from this on I'm going to keep
my eye on Martine. You didn't set the fire, did you, sister?"
"There, Lucian, if you tease like that you'll be banished."
"No more banishment for either of us," cried Fritz, boldly. "You've all
had accidents enough to show you the need of adequate protection."
"Perhaps you could have prevented the fire," said Amy, with some
sarcasm.
"I could have prevented your staying at any house but the most
fire-proof hotel in the town, and that I believe is still standing."
"What did you save?" asked Lucian, in an effort to turn the
conversation.
"Oh, my mother's picture," said Martine, softly. And then, as if afraid
of seeming sentimental, "But I lost an emerald ring and all my silver
brushes, and a pair of slippers, and one of my gloves, and a dozen
postage stamps."
"Stop, stop, Martine."
"Well, I saved my best stock, and Mrs. Redmond saved her umbrella, and
we--"
"Are all clothed and in our right minds, excepting you, Martine, who
seem in danger of losing yours," interrupted Amy. "I believe that
carriage at the door is the one that Mr. Taunton telephoned for; so, if
we are going to Halifax to-day, it is surely time to start on our
shopping expedition."
Acting on this suggestion, Priscilla and Martine helped Amy gather
together their few remaining possessions, while Mrs. Redmond discussed
her plans with Fritz.
When at last the moment came for the few words of farewell, Mrs. Redmond
and the girls felt that in bidding good-bye to Mrs. Andrews and the
Tauntons they were parting with friends whom they had known for weeks
instead of hours.
Mrs. Redmond and the girls drove to the station, where Fritz and Lucian
met them after a brisk walk down town.
"Fritz," said Amy, as the two stood together in the hotel sitting-room,
"I have a confession to make."
"Open confession is good for the soul, so out with it at once, fair
lady."
"It is simply this: I am really glad that you are here to take charge of
things. Even in travelling mamma, you know, hates to attend to practical
details. Now of course we have got on very well, barring one or two
little things."
"Fires and such." There was a mischievous twinkle in Fritz's eye.
"Oh, well, even that might have been worse; so now, until we reach
Halifax, I do wish that you would take charge of everything."
"With pleasure," responded Fritz. "Especially will I see that you do not
mislay your keys. But you look tired, Amy. Come, sit down."
Whereupon Amy sank wearily upon a sofa, only too glad that for the
present her responsibility was shifted to some one else.
There was a funny side, however, to the zeal displayed by Fritz and
Lucian. They insisted, with an emphasis that no one dared oppose, that
the girls and Mrs. Redmond should rest quietly while they went out to
shop.
"My dear boys," Mrs. Redmond had protested, "there is hardly a thing
that we shall really need before we reach Halifax. In the parlor cars we
shall be unnoticed and perfectly comfortable, and after we have opened
our trunks we can tell what we most require."
"Oh, Mrs. Redmond, there must be some errands for us to do. Can't you
trust us?"
Lucian's face was so expressive of disappointment that Mrs. Redmond was
glad that she had made out a small list.
"Of course there are some things--and we are ever so much obliged to you
and Fritz for your willingness to do errands."
"You see," continued Lucian, confidentially, and dropping his voice that
his sister might not overhear him, "I didn't ask Martine what she
needed. That would have started her off to suggest no end of
things,--you know what girls are. I can tell pretty well what she ought
to have, so we'll just slip off before she can say anything."
Fritz had condescended to accept a few suggestions from Amy, and the two
boys rushed off in high spirits. An hour later, when they returned,
their arms filled with packages, followed by a grinning hotel boy who
was dragging a large parcel, Mrs. Redmond lifted her hands in amazement.
"Two hats!" she exclaimed, in still greater surprise as they undid the
strings of the larger package, "but only one was really needed. Martine
left hers behind, but Amy--"
"Now, Mrs. Redmond," said Fritz, "perhaps you didn't observe Amy's. Why,
some one must have turned the hose on it; the flowers were all
bedraggled, and the ribbon--Mrs. Redmond, surely you must have noticed
its condition. But these are so pretty that I couldn't let Lucian be the
only one to buy a hat."
"It's certainly very thoughtful in you, Fritz, but still my list--"
"Oh, we've got everything that was on the list, only these little extras
were just to amuse ourselves."
"Six stocks! you extravagant boy!" Martine, arriving on the scene, had
opened one of her brother's parcels.
"Six stocks!" he repeated. "Why, that's only one and a half apiece!"
"And gloves; well, we could have waited until we reached Halifax. They
are probably better there. I wish I had thought to speak of shirt
waists," continued Martine. "This is hardly respectable."
"Oh, I thought of that, too," replied Lucian; "at least, I remembered
you hadn't a coat, so I supposed some sort of a wrap would do. Coats
have to be kind of tailor-made and fitted, don't they?" While he spoke
Lucian was undoing the largest package, from which he drew out a Scotch
shawl of brown and yellow plaid.
"There, that's the thing!" he exclaimed with pride. "It looks as if it
had come straight from Edinburgh. You can throw it over your shoulders
instead of a coat."
"Oh, Lucian," cried Martine, "you can't expect me to wrap myself up like
that, especially on a warm August afternoon!"
"Why shouldn't it be all right travelling?" asked Lucian, with less
elation. "You wouldn't have to think about the fit."
But when he saw that all the others were laughing at him, he walked off
toward the window, murmuring what sounded like "There's no pleasing some
people."
"Come back, come back," cried Martine, as he turned away; "the shawl
will be very useful if we go yachting at Halifax, and no one but you
would have thought of these delicious boxes of chocolates. We all thank
you very, very much; see, there's a box for you and Priscilla, Amy, as
well as for me."
Lucian's face brightened under his sister's praise, while Amy and
Priscilla thanked him for their chocolates.
"You were dreadfully worried, weren't you, Prissie," said Martine,
mischievously, "over the chocolates that I offered you last evening? But
though Lucian was the giver in that case, perhaps you will enjoy these
better, knowing where they came from."
"Shall I put this magazine in your bag?" asked Priscilla, hoping thus to
divert Martine from further teasing.
"Certainly," replied Martine. "Let Lucian help you with the catch. It is
hard to open."
"The magazines are Fritz's contribution," explained Lucian, as he worked
with the spring of Martine's bag. "There's one for each of the party.
But hello, what's this? Did you think of digging a grave, or anything of
that kind, sister, when you brought this along? It's a strange thing to
have saved from a fire;" and before Martine could protest Lucian had
withdrawn his hand from the bag in which he had been fumbling, and
before the gaze of the whole party held up a queerly shaped little
trowel.
"I didn't ask you to meddle with things in my bag," cried Martine,
excitedly, after the manner of sisters.
"Well, what's the matter with the little spade?" asked Lucian, looking
from one to the other.
No one replied as Amy snatched it from his hand. In fact, Amy was the
only one to recognize it as the Acadian relic that Balfour Airton had
given to Martine.