THE STORY OF A FIRE.
Another piece of work done by the same boy Cyril furnishes an almost
exact parallel to some of the stories from the books which I have given
in earlier pages. He and his older friend, it seems, were passing along
in the prosecution of their usual work one night, when they noticed the
fierce glare of a big fire below them, and promptly dived down to see
if they could be of any use.
It was a great hotel which was in flames, a huge caravanserai on
the edge of a great lake. The house, many stories in height, formed
three sides of a square round a sort of garden, planted with trees
and flowers, while the lake formed the fourth side. The two wings ran
right down to the lake, the big bay windows which terminated them
almost projecting over the water, so as to leave only quite a narrow
passage-way under them at the two sides.
The front and wings were built round inside wells, which contained also
the lattice-work shafts of the lifts, so that when once the fire broke
out, it spread with almost incredible rapidity, and before our friends
saw it on their astral journey all the middle floors in each of the
three great blocks were in flames. Fortunately the inmates--except one
little boy--had already been rescued, though some of them had sustained
very serious burns and other injuries.
This little fellow had been forgotten in one of the upper rooms of the
left wing, for his parents were out at a ball, and knew nothing of
the fire, while naturally enough no one else thought of the lad till
it was far too late. The fire had gained such a hold on the middle
floors of that wing that nothing could have been done, even if any one
had remembered him, as his room faced on to the inner garden which has
been mentioned, so that he was completely cut off from all outside
help. Besides, he was not even aware of his danger, for the dense,
suffocating smoke had so gradually filled the room that his sleep had
grown deeper and deeper, till he was all but stupefied.
In this state he was discovered by Cyril, who seems to be specially
attracted towards children in need or danger. He first tried to make
some of the people remember the boy, but in vain; and in any case it
seemed scarcely possible that they could have helped him, so that it
was soon evident that this was merely a waste of time. The older
helper then materialized Cyril, as before, in the room, and set him to
work to awaken and rouse up the more than half-stupefied child. After a
good deal of difficulty this was accomplished to some extent, but the
boy remained in a half-dazed, semi-conscious condition through all that
followed, so that he needed to be pushed and pulled about, guided and
helped at every turn.
The two boys first crept out of the room into the central passage which
ran through the wing, and then, finding that the smoke and the flames
beginning to come through the floor made it impassable for a physical
body, Cyril got the other boy back into the room again and out of the
window on to a stone ledge, about a foot wide, which ran right along
the block just below the windows. Along this he managed to guide his
companion, half balancing himself on the extreme edge of the ledge, and
half floating on air, but always placing himself outside, of the other,
so as to keep him from dizziness and prevent him from feeling afraid of
a fall.
Towards the end of the block nearest the lake, in which direction the
fire seemed less developed, they climbed in through an open window and
again reached the passage, hoping to find the staircase at that end
still passable. But it, too, was full of flame and smoke; so they
crawled back along the passage, Cyril advising his companion to keep
his mouth close to the ground, till they reached the latticed cage of
the lift running down the long well in the centre of the block.
The lift of course was at the bottom, but they managed to clamber down
the lattice work inside the cage till they stood on the roof of the
elevator itself. Here they found themselves blocked, but luckily Cyril
discovered a doorway opening from the cage of the lift on to a sort of
_entresol_ just above the ground floor. Through this they reached
a passage, which they crossed, the little boy being half-stifled by the
smoke; then they made their way through one of the rooms opposite, and
finally, clambering out of the window, found themselves on the top of
the veranda which ran along in front of the ground floor, between it
and the garden.
Thence it was easy enough to swarm down one of the pillars and reach
the garden itself; but even there the heat was intense, and the
danger, when the walls should fall, very considerable. So Cyril tried
to conduct his charge round the end first of one, then of the other
wing; but in both cases the flames had burst through, and the narrow,
overhung passages were quite impassable. Finally they took refuge in
one of the pleasure boats which were moored to the steps of the quay
at the side of the garden next the lake, and, casting loose, rowed out
on to the water.
Cyril intended to row round past the burning wing and land the boy whom
he had saved; but when they got some little way out, they fell in with
a passing lake steamer, and were seen--for the whole scene was lit up
by the glare of the burning hotel, till everything was as plain as in
broad daylight. The steamer came alongside the boat to take them off;
but instead of the two boys they had seen, the crew found only one--for
his older friend had promptly allowed Cyril to slip back into his
astral form, dissipating the denser matter which had made for the time
a material body, and he was therefore now invisible.
A careful search was made, of course, but no trace of the second boy
could be found, and so it was concluded that he must have fallen
overboard and been drowned just as they came alongside. The child
who had been rescued fell into a dead faint as soon as he was safe
on board, so they could get no information from him, and when he did
recover, all he could say was that he had seen the other boy the moment
before they came alongside, and then knew nothing more.
The steamer was bound down the lake to a place some two days’ sail
distant, and it was a week or so before the rescued boy could be
restored to his parents, who of course thought that he had perished in
the flames, for though an effort was made to impress on their minds the
fact that their son had been saved, it was found impossible to convey
the idea to them, so it may be imagined how great was the joy of the
meeting.
The boy is still well and happy, and is never weary of relating his
wonderful adventure. Many a time he has regretted that the kind friend
who saved him should have perished so mysteriously at the very moment
when all the danger seemed over at last. Indeed, he has even ventured
to suggest that perhaps he _didn’t_ perish after all--that perhaps
he was a fairy prince; but of course this idea elicits nothing but
tolerant smiles of superiority from his elders. The kârmic link between
him and his preserver has not yet been traced, but no doubt there must
be one somewhere.