Never had "The Automobile Girls" displayed greater courage than at this
critical moment. It was the time for quick action and quicker thought.
The men who were digging the trench could not leave their work. They saw
that, unless the trench were dug wider, it would be necessary to fight
the flames back, and they were digging like mad to keep the fire from
leaping the ditch again.
It was Mollie who saved them from a terrible explosion by remembering
the house where the gasoline was stored just behind the garage, and John
and Adam rolled the tank to a distance temporarily safe at least.
Bab had found a ladder somewhere. Placing it against the garage she had
scaled it like a monkey, carrying under one arm a wet blanket the weight
of which she was too excited to notice. She never quite knew how she
shinned up the roof, but presently she found herself astride the
pinnacle. Zerlina had followed close behind, with more blankets and
together the two girls spread them over the smoking shingles. When the
roof was covered, they let themselves down and began dashing water on
the smouldering walls. The bucket brigade was working well under the
direction of Ruth, and the garage was saved.
Then a line of clipped bushes running from the garden to the forest,
suddenly burst into flames. A cry went up from the workers at this
terrifying spectacle. To the girls, it seemed like a gigantic boa
constrictor racing toward them, and, for a moment, they turned cold with
fear.
"All hands must help here!" cried Bab, taking command, as she naturally
did in times of danger. "Zerlina, tell the men to come from the trench
with their shovels. Bring pails of water, all of you," she called to the
Gypsies, "and the rest of the wet blankets."
There was a rush and a scramble. They tried to beat down the angry
little flames, dashed water on to them, choked them with wet blankets,
trampled on them, and finally fell back, stifled and blinded with smoke
and ashes, only to find the gasoline house a burning mass. It had gone
up like a tinder box in an instant, and was reduced to ruins.
"If we have any more gusts of wind like that last, Bab, we are lost!"
cried Ruth, sobbing a little under her breath. "But, of course, if the
worst happens, we can always take the automobiles. They can run faster
than the flames."
Back of the garage they could see another line of flames advancing like
a regiment of cavalry.
"Great heavens!" cried Grace. "What shall we do now?"
"Don't despair, yet," answered Bab. "Those dividing hedges are very dry,
but the flames don't spread from them so quickly; and, besides, I
believe the trench will stop them."
"O Bab," exclaimed Ruth, "do you think there will ever be an end to
this? We are too tired to dig trenches, and the water is getting
alarmingly low."
"But there are two more cisterns," replied the undaunted Bab.
Just then the wind, which, up to this time, except for a few brief
gusts, had been merely a breeze, gathered new strength. Sparks began to
fly from the burning underbrush in the wood. It had been a ground fire,
owing to the long drought, and the trees still waved their green
branches over the ruins at their feet.
Ruth seized Bab's hand convulsively.
"Young ladies!" called a voice behind them. Turning, they confronted the
hermit. "I am a very old man, but, if you will permit me, I will make a
suggestion. Save what water is left for the roof, which should be
deluged as soon as possible. The trench will stop the fire, but it
cannot keep back the sparks and I see a wind has come up that is most
dangerous."
"Oh, thank you," cried the two girls, seeing the wisdom of his
suggestion immediately.
Miss Sallie, a tragic spectacle, came from around the house; her white
hair tumbling down her back, her face gray with ashes and her lavender
garments torn and wet.
"Girls," she murmured, her voice trembling, from fatigue and excitement,
"we have done all we could do for the major. I think we had better give
it up and go while we can get away."
"Let us have one more chance. Aunt Sallie, dearest," begged Ruth, "and
if that fails there will still be time to get away in the motor car."
"What are you going to do now, child?" asked the poor woman
distractedly.
"You go and sit down in one of the long chairs on the piazza and rest,"
replied her niece, patting her hand tenderly, "and leave everything to
us."
The girls could hear the throbbing of the pumping engine somewhere
below, as they dashed up the steps. John had connected all the cisterns
and the machinery was working in good order. The candles and lanterns
they carried hardly made an impression in the blackness of the great
empty garret, but an exclamation from John called attention to the fact
that the sliding partition was down.
"I never knew it to happen before," he said, "except once when I was too
small to understand."
"How are we going to manage?" asked Grace, looking overhead.
"Through the scuttle to the roof," replied Barbara, pointing to a ladder
leading to a trapdoor.
John climbed up first, opening the scuttle, and everybody lent a hand in
lifting out the hose he had brought along. Barbara and Zerlina followed
to the roof, which was steep and much broken by pinnacles and turrets;
yet in contrast with the attic it was quite light outside, and the girls
could see perfectly where to step without slipping.
Only two people were needed, it was decided. Bab would not hear of
Ruth's coming, on account of the latter's horror of high places. It was
certain that Mollie and Grace were not agile enough for the experiment,
and Bab and Zerlina had already proved what they could do when they
scaled the garage roof.
The three girls left behind climbed onto a balcony just outside one of
the attic windows and watched, with tremulous interest, what was
happening on the roof.
Thus Zerlina and Barbara, with old John, were left alone on top of Ten
Eyck Hall. They had a wonderful view of the smoking forest, the tops of
whose trees were waving in the steadily rising wind. The trench had,
indeed, stopped the course of the flames which had run along the meadow
hedges, and there were no more lines of fire to be seen; but there was a
bright glow toward the back and a sound of crackling wood. Then came a
burst of flames and the onlooker saw that the stable was burning. A
spark lit on Bab's wrist; another touched her on the cheek, and
presently a gust of wind brought dozens of them twinkling like shooting
stars at night. They fell on the shingled roof, smouldered for a moment
and went out. Others followed. It could be only a matter of a little
while, thought Bab, before the hall would be in flames if they were not
prompt with the water.
"It's all right, Miss," called John's voice from behind the tank on the
part of the roof over the attic. There was a gurgling noise and a swift
jet of water burst from the nozzle of the hose.
With Zerlina's assistance, Bab began watering the roof. But the tallest
peak was beyond reach of the hose. There the sparks were smouldering
into life and Bab distinctly saw a a little puff of flame lick out and
then go back again like a cunning animal biding its time.
Bab ran over to the tank.
"John," she called, "get a ladder and a pail."
Together they unhooked the ladder attached to the tank and dragged it
over to the high center peak of the roof. There was a pail, also, which
they filled with water. While the old man held the ladder Bab climbed
up, taking the pail from Zerlina. Several times the brave girl dashed
water over the smoking shingles until every spark was dead. Then,
standing on one foot, on the top rung of the ladder, Bab braced herself
with a lightning rod running up the side of the turret, and leaned over
to see if all were well on its other section. Below her she could see
the girls on the balcony peering up at her with frightened eyes. Lifting
herself entirely off the ladder, for an instant, Bab glanced around the
turret. In slipping back, her foot missed the rung. The shock made her
lose her grip on the lightning rod, and like a flash she slid down the
steepest part of the roof now slippery from its recent wetting. There
was nothing to hold to, nothing to cling to, and she closed her eyes
from the horror that was before her.
[Illustration: Like a Flash She Slid Down the Steepest Part of the
Roof.]
It is said that a great many things pass through one's mind at such
brief, tense moments as these, when death is almost certain.
The thought that came to Bab's mind, however, was her mother's prayer,
"Heaven make me calm in the face of danger."
There was, of course, a shudder of horror, a wild, ineffectual effort to
save herself--a shock.
When she opened her eyes, three pairs of arms encircled her, and three
sobbing faces hovered over her. She had landed upon the roof of the
balcony where the girls were waiting. Except for a bruised arm, she had
met with no harm.
"Why, girlies," she said, smiling a little weakly, "were you so
frightened?" and then closed her eyes again.
Zerlina and John came tumbling down the ladder. The Gypsy girl was as
white as a sheet and old John was openly sobbing.
"I'm all right," Bab assured them, standing up and shaking herself to
bring her senses back. She bathed her throbbing wrists and temples, and
all climbed down into the lower regions of the house. It was decided to
water the side of the house, and after that nothing more could be done.
The whole place was lit up with the burning stable, and sparks were
flying in every direction. The wind had risen to a gale and the skies
were overhung with a black canopy of clouds kindled by occasional
flashes of lightning. There was a low grumbling sound of thunder. Down
the avenue came the clatter of horses' hoofs. At the same time there was
a terrific clap, and the rain poured down in torrents.
"Here they are!" cried the girls as Major Ten Eyck and the boys leaped
from their horses and dashed up the piazza steps. José was not with
them.