FIRE NEAR MR STRELLEY'S WAREHOUSE--JACK DEANE SHOWS THAT HE IS A LAD OF
COURAGE.
Jack soon again scaled the garden wall, and stood under his bedroom
window. He had left it wide open; it was now almost closed. The old
pear-tree nailed against the wall enabled him to climb up a considerable
distance, so as to reach the window-sill, by which he could haul himself
up, and get into his room.
"Probably the wind has blown it to," he said to himself. "I hope no one
has found out my absence."
Climbing up, he gently pushed back the window. On looking in, what was
his dismay to see his father seated in the chair by the table, with a
candle now almost burned out, and a book, from which he had evidently
been reading, before him! His eyes were however closed, and he was
nodding, fast asleep. Jack was a man of action, and always more ready
to face a danger than to avoid it. He crawled in, therefore, as
noiselessly as he could, and sat himself down on a chest at the farther
end of the room, waiting for his father to awake. Jack did not trouble
himself much as to what he should say, planning, and inventing, and
twisting, and turning the truth in all sorts of ways, or inventing all
sorts of falsehoods, but, like an honest man, he determined to tell the
whole truth openly and frankly at once, and so brave the worst, and take
the consequences of what he had done, whatever they might be. In fact,
so little agitated was he at the thoughts of what he had to go through,
and being moreover excessively tired, for he had been up and actively
engaged all day, that he soon became drowsy, and imitating his respected
father, began to nod much in the fashion he was doing. In a short time
Jack was fast asleep. He was not very comfortable though, for he had an
unpleasant sort of feeling, which was carried into his dreams, that all
was not right, and that something very disagreeable was about to occur.
How long he had slept he could not tell, but suddenly he was awoke by a
bright glare which passed across his face, and starting up he saw flames
issuing from the sheds by the side of the river, in which his late
companions had proposed to enjoy their supper. He started to his feet,
and remembering that Mr Strelley's great wool warehouse was near the
sheds, as well as a number of cottages thatched with straw, belonging to
the people employed on the river, he dreaded that a very considerable
conflagration might be the consequence. Jack sprang to the window.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he exclaimed in a voice loud enough to awake
his father; "I am sorry to rouse you up, but there's a fire near Mr
Strelley's warehouse, and I must be off to try and get it put out. I
hope it has not caught any of the premises yet; but pray call up some of
our neighbours, there's not a moment to be lost!"
"Where! where! what's the matter?" exclaimed Mr Deane, starting. "Why,
Jack, what have you been about?"
Jack repeated what he had just said; and before his father had time to
make any answer, he had leaped out of the window and across the garden,
and down the lane by which he had previously gone. As he ran through
the narrow streets, he every now and then shouted, "Fire! fire!" By the
time he had reached the sheds, they were blazing furiously. The wind
had also carried some sparks to an outhouse nearer the cottages, and
already the people were running to and fro; women with babies in their
arms, roused out of their sleep, rushing from the doors, and boys
hallooing and men shouting, and yet none doing any thing to stop the
progress of the flames. Jack, seeing that unless some one took the lead
all the neighbouring buildings might catch fire, shouted out, "Form a
line, my lads, down to the river, and you women bring your `pancheons,'
pails, kettles, any thing that will hold water; and now, lads, pass them
along, and we will soon put out this fire. Now, you lads, tear away the
burning dry thatch from the tops of those cottages; never mind a little
singeing. You won't have a house standing in the place if you don't
look sharp about it!"
Jack, as he spoke, set an example, by doing himself as he directed
others to do. As soon as the people saw what was necessary to be done
to stop the progress of the flames, they worked willingly enough. Jack
leaped up to the top of a wall, and having buckets passed to him, threw
the water over the burning roof. Several of the most active of the men
did the same, while the women and children passed the buckets along with
considerable rapidity. It was very doubtful, however, whether their
efforts would avail in checking the progress of the fire. Jack
continued to encourage them with shouts and cheers, and by this time
many more people having arrived with buckets, he began to hope that his
efforts would not be without success. The shed in which the fire had
originated, and two or three hovels, had already been burned down, while
the outbuilding which communicated with the warehouse was already in
flames: on this, therefore, Jack now directed the people to bestow all
their efforts. A loud cheer at length announced to those who were
arriving on the spot, the owner of the warehouse among them, that Jack's
efforts had been crowned with success, and that the fire was
extinguished. Jack, with his hands blackened and burned, and his
clothes and hair singed, was now called for by the crowd, and before he
was well aware what they were about to do, he found himself seated in a
chair, and carried home in triumph, just at the break of the early
summer morning. Jack, however, was more burned and injured than he had
at first supposed; so much so, that his father forbore making any remark
on his absence during the night. On awaking a few hours afterwards--for
he had been immediately put into his bed, and doctored by the careful
hands of his mother and sister Kate--he found Dr Nathaniel Deane seated
by his side. The latter having felt his pulse, and complimented him on
his achievements, "No, no, Cousin Nat," he answered; "if you knew all,
you would not praise me. I have acted like an idiot, or worse than an
idiot."
"I am glad to find that no great harm has been done except to your poor
hands, my lad. It will be a fortnight, or nearly so, before you will be
able to use them," answered the doctor. "You will have time to stay
quiet and get wisdom, if that is what you want."
One of Jack's first visitors was Mr Strelley.
"I have come to thank you, Mr John Deane, for saving my property," he
said, as he took his seat by his side. "You have not only benefited me
very greatly, but I can scarcely tell you how many poor families would
have been thrown out of work if my factory had been destroyed."
Jack of course made a suitable answer.
"I just did what I saw ought to be done," said Jack. "Really, Mr
Strelley, I do not think you have anything to thank me for."
"There may be two opinions even on a matter of that sort," answered the
manufacturer; "and, at all events, I wish you would tell me how I can
best serve you. I wish to do it for your father's sake, as well as for
your own. We are old friends, you know; so do not stand on ceremony, at
all events."
The occurrence of the night had made Jack more than ever anxious to
leave home for a time; for he felt that even should his father not
question him as to the cause of his absence during it, he was bound to
tell him. He therefore explained fully to Mr Strelley what were his
wishes with regard to becoming a cattle-dealer and drover.
"If you really have made up your mind on the subject, I will most gladly
forward your views," said Mr Strelley. "You know my trusty old head
drover, Will Brinsmead, as you took an excursion with him last year, I
rather think. He will start in a few days in charge of a large drove
now grazing in Colwick Park and adjoining meadows, and dispose of them
at Stourbridge Fair. With the price he obtains he is to buy Scotch
cattle at Saint Faith's, near Norwich; for, as you know, the Highland
drovers bring their lean beasts to that place. I have a correspondent
at Norwich, my old friend Mr Gournay, the manufacturer, and several
merchants; and Brinsmead will have to transact some business with them.
Now you could not do better than serve your apprenticeship under him,
and act as his clerk. You will learn in that way how to do business on
a large scale, and that, I take it, will be your aim as a young man of
spirit. You would not be long content to follow at the tails of oxen,
and keep them moving on the straight road."
"The very thing above all things I should like," exclaimed Jack. "I
hope my Cousin Nat will get my hands all to rights in a few days; and
however my father might have objected to my starting with strangers, I
am nearly sure he will agree to the plan you so kindly propose."
Mr Strelley's offer was duly placed before Mr Deane.
"If Jack remains much longer idle at home, he will be getting into
mischief, if he has not got into it already," he thought to himself. "I
have no reason to be ashamed of my boy, and perhaps it will be my own
fault if I have cause to be at any future time. Cousin Nat is a man of
judgment, and he asserts always that there is more in Jack than any of
us suppose; and that if we allow him to follow the bent of his own
inclinations, he will be sure to work his way up in the world, even
though we let him begin at the bottom of the ladder. Some people want
help, and don't get on well without it; others are all the better for
being left alone, and help only makes them idle."
The assurance which Jack received that he would be allowed at length to
carry out his much-cherished plan, contributed not a little to his
restoration, and the burns on his hands and legs healed more rapidly
than Cousin Nat had predicted.
Squire Harwood and his daughter had returned to the Grange the day after
the occurrence which has been narrated; and as soon as Jack was able to
leave the house, although not fit for a journey, he expressed his
intention of riding over to pay a farewell visit to his friends. Often
when left in solitude he had conjured up a vision of the sweet
countenance of Alethea, and he could not help longing once more to see
the reality. His proposal met with every encouragement from his family.
"If any body can civilise our boy Jack, Miss Harwood can," observed Mrs
Deane to her husband.
"I doubt whether she will think it worth while to make the attempt,"
observed Mr Deane. "Jack is in no way suited to her, whatever he may
flatter himself is the case. However, let the lad go; he can come to no
harm, at all events; and Mistress Alethea may give him a taste for
better society than he seems to have a fancy for."