The outlines of the house of Dr. Trescott had faded quietly into the
evening, hiding a shape such as we call Queen Anne against the pall of
the blackened sky. The neighborhood was at this time so quiet, and
seemed so devoid of obstructions, that Hannigan's dog thought it a
good opportunity to prowl in forbidden precincts, and so came and
pawed Trescott's lawn, growling, and considering himself a formidable
beast. Later, Peter Washington strolled past the house and whistled,
but there was no dim light shining from Henry's loft, and presently
Peter went his way. The rays from the street, creeping in silvery
waves over the grass, caused the row of shrubs along the drive to
throw a clear, bold shade.
A wisp of smoke came from one of the windows at the end of the house
and drifted quietly into the branches of a cherry-tree. Its companions
followed it in slowly increasing numbers, and finally there was a
current controlled by invisible banks which poured into the
fruit-laden boughs of the cherry-tree. It was no more to be noted than
if a troop of dim and silent gray monkeys had been climbing a
grapevine into the clouds.
After a moment the window brightened as if the four panes of it had
been stained with blood, and a quick ear might have been led to
imagine the fire-imps calling and calling, clan joining clan,
gathering to the colors. From the street, however, the house
maintained its dark quiet, insisting to a passer-by that it was the
safe dwelling of people who chose to retire early to tranquil dreams.
No one could have heard this low droning of the gathering clans.
Suddenly the panes of the red window tinkled and crashed to the
ground, and at other windows there suddenly reared other flames, like
bloody spectres at the apertures of a haunted house. This outbreak had
been well planned, as if by professional revolutionists.
A man's voice suddenly shouted: "Fire! Fire! Fire!" Hannigan had flung
his pipe frenziedly from him because his lungs demanded room. He
tumbled down from his perch, swung over the fence, and ran shouting
towards the front-door of the Trescotts'. Then he hammered on the
door, using his fists as if they were mallets. Mrs. Trescott instantly
came to one of the windows on the second floor. Afterwards she knew
she had been about to say, "The doctor is not at home, but if you will
leave your name, I will let him know as soon as he comes."
Hannigan's bawling was for a minute incoherent, but she understood
that it was not about croup.
"What?" she said, raising the window swiftly.
"Your house is on fire! You're all ablaze! Move quick if--" His cries
were resounding, in the street as if it were a cave of echoes. Many
feet pattered swiftly on the stones. There was one man who ran with an
almost fabulous speed. He wore lavender trousers. A straw hat with a
bright silk band was held half crumpled in his hand.
As Henry reached the front-door, Hannigan had just broken the lock
with a kick. A thick cloud of smoke poured over them, and Henry,
ducking his head, rushed into it. From Hannigan's clamor he knew only
one thing, but it turned him blue with horror. In the hall a lick of
flame had found the cord that supported "Signing the Declaration." The
engraving slumped suddenly down at one end, and then dropped to the
floor, where it burst with the sound of a bomb. The fire was already
roaring like a winter wind among the pines.
At the head of the stairs Mrs. Trescott was waving her arms as if they
were two reeds.
"Jimmie! Save Jimmie!" she screamed in Henry's face. He plunged past
her and disappeared, taking the long-familiar routes among these upper
chambers, where he had once held office as a sort of second assistant
house-maid.
Hannigan had followed him up the stairs, and grappled the arm of the
maniacal woman there. His face was black with rage. "You must come
down," he bellowed.
She would only scream at him in reply: "Jimmie! Jimmie! Save Jimmie!"
But he dragged her forth while she babbled at him.
As they swung out into the open air a man ran across the lawn, and
seizing a shutter, pulled it from its hinges and flung it far out upon
the grass. Then he frantically attacked the other shutters one by one.
It was a kind of temporary insanity.
"Here, you," howled Hannigan, "hold Mrs. Trescott--And stop--"
The news had been telegraphed by a twist of the wrist of a neighbor
who had gone to the fire-box at the corner, and the time when Hannigan
and his charge struggled out of the house was the time when the
whistle roared its hoarse night call, smiting the crowd in the park,
causing the leader of the band, who was about to order the first
triumphal clang of a military march, to let his hand drop slowly to
his knees.