Part 17 (1/2)

Connie therefore only removed his shoes. She tucked the blankets round him, and said, ”Good-night, Ronnie.”

”What is that verse?” asked Ronald again. ”'He that shall endure to the end'----”

”'Shall be saved,'” finished Connie.

When she came to these words she noticed that little Ronald was sound asleep. Connie changed her mind about lying down. She sat on the floor by the boy's side, laid her head on the pillow close to his, and also dropped asleep.

Big Ben called out the hour but the children slept. Perhaps the Voice spoke to them in their dreams, for they smiled now and then. Doubtless they were far away in those dreams from the dreadful attic, from the influence of a most cruel woman, from hunger and cold. The fire burned to a fine red glow, and then cooled down and grew gray and full of ashes, and eventually went out. For it had burned its heart out trying to help the children; and without a heart, even fire cannot keep alive.

But the two children slept on, although Ronald now stirred uneasily and coughed in his sleep. It seemed to Connie that she also was oppressed by something, as though a great and terrible nightmare were sitting on her chest. Ronald coughed louder and opened his eyes.

”Connie, Connie--where are we?” he cried.

Connie sat up with a stare.

”I be stiff,” she began, ”and--and cold. Wotever's the hour? Bide a bit, Ronald, and I'll find the matches and turn on the gas.”

”What's the matter with the room?” said Ronald.

”I don't know nothing,” said Connie.

”My eyes smart,” said Ronald, ”and I can't breathe.”

”I feel queer too,” said Connie. ”I won't be a second finding out, though. You lie quiet.”

She groped about, found a match-box, which still contained a few matches, struck a light, and applied it to the gas, which was at full pressure now, and roared out, making a great flame.

”W'y, the room's full o' smoke,” said Connie. ”Wottever can it be?”

Ronald sat up in bed, opening his eyes.

”Where does it come from?” he said. ”The fire is out.”

Just then Big Ben proclaimed the hour of three.

”He that shall endure,” thought Connie. ”To the end,” darted through Ronald's mind; and just then both children heard an unmistakable and awful roar. Was it the roar of human voices or the roar of something else--a devouring and awful element? Connie turned white. Now, if ever, was the time to be brave.

”I'll open the winder and look out,” she said.

She sprang towards it and, with a great effort, pushed it half up. The moment she did so, the noise from without came louder, and the noise from within was more deafening.

”Fire! fire!” shouted a mult.i.tude of people from below in the street; and ”Fire! fire!” cried the frenzied inhabitants of the old tenement-house. Connie and Ronald were on the top story. Connie went back to Ronald.

”The house is on fire, Ronnie!” she said. ”But we mustn't be frightened, either of us; we must think of the grand verse, and of what Big Ben said. Big Ben's an angel, you mind; Giles knows all about that.”

”Oh yes,” said Ronald, his teeth chattering; for the draught from the open window, although it relieved his breathing, made him intensely cold. ”It's a beautiful verse, isn't it, Connie?” he continued.

”Yus,” said Connie. ”Let's get to the winder, Ronnie dear. We'll call out. There are people down in the street. The fire-engines 'ull be on in a minute; we'll be saved, in course.”

”Oh, of course,” said Ronnie. He staggered to the floor, and put his feet into his shoes. ”A good thing I wasn't undressed,” he said.