Part 24 (1/2)
”You make haste,” retorted Pax; ”three minutes allowed to get under weigh. Two and a half gone already. Two-and-six fine if late, besides a--”
The whip cracked, and Pax, leaping forward, seized the side of the engine. Six bra.s.s helmets bounded into the air, and their owners settled on their seats, as the horses made that momentary pause and semi-rear which often precedes a das.h.i.+ng start. The man whom he had been insulting held out a hand; Pax seized it, and was next moment in a terrestrial heaven, while calmness personified sauntered into the back office to make a note of the circ.u.mstance, and resume his pipe.
Oh! it was a brief but maddening ride. To experience such a magnificent rush seemed to Pax worth living for. It was not more than half-a-mile; but in that brief s.p.a.ce there were three corners to turn like zigzag lightning, which they did chiefly on the two near wheels, and there were carts, vans, cabs, drays, apple-stalls, children, dogs, and cats innumerable. To have run over or upset these would have been small gratification to the comparatively tender spirit of Pax, but to _shave_ them; to graze the apple-stalls; to just sc.r.a.pe a lamp-post with your heart in your mouth; to hear the tremendous roar of the firemen; to see the abject terror of some people, the excitement of others, the obedient ”skedaddling” of all, while the sparks from the pump-boiler trailed behind, and the two bull's-eyes glared ahead, so that the engine resembled some awful monster rus.h.i.+ng through thick and thin, and waving in triumph its fiery tail--ah! words are but feeble exponents of thought: it was excruciating ecstasy! To have been born for this one burst, and died, would have been better than never to have been born at all,--in the estimation of the enthusiastic Peter Pax!
A few minutes after George Aspel had borne the fainting Miss Lillycrop from the house the engine arrived. Some of the men swarmed into the house, and dived to the bas.e.m.e.nt, as if fire and smoke were their natural food. Others got the engine to work in a few seconds, but already the flames had rushed into the lower rooms and pa.s.sages and licked away the windows. The thick stream of water had just begun to descend on the fire, when another engine came rattling to the field, and its brazen-headed warriors leaped down to join the battle.
”Oh!” groaned Miss Lillycrop at that moment, recovering in Aspel's arms.
”Oh! Tottie--To-o-o-o-tie's in the kitchen!”
Little Pax heard and understood. In one moment he bounded through the blazing doorway and up the smoking stair.
Just then the fire-escape came into view, towering up against the black sky.
”Hold her, some one!” cried Aspel, dropping his poor burden into the ready arms of a policeman.
”The boy's lost!” he exclaimed, leaping after Pax.
Aspel was a practised diver. Many a time had he tried his powers under the Atlantic waves on the west of Ireland. He drew one long breath, and was in the attic kitchen before it was expended. Here he found little Pax and Tottie on the floor. The former had fallen, suffocated, in the act of hauling the latter along by the hair of the head. Aspel did not see them. He stumbled over them, grasped both in his strong arms, and bore them to the staircase. It was by that time a roaring furnace. His power of retaining breath was exhausted. In desperation he turned sharp to the right, and dashed in Miss Lillycrop's drawing-room door, just as the fire-escape performed the same feat on one of the windows. The gush of air drove back the smoke for one moment. Gasping and reeling to the window, Aspel hurled the children into the bag of the escape. He retained sufficient power to plunge in head first after them and ram them down its throat. All three arrived at the bottom in a state of insensibility.
In this state they were borne to a neighbouring house, and soon restored to consciousness.
The firemen battled there during the greater part of that night, and finally gained the victory; but, before this happy consummation was attained, poor Miss Lillycrop's home was gutted and her little property reduced to ashes.
In these circ.u.mstances she and her little maid found a friend in need in Miss Stivergill, and an asylum in Rosebud Cottage.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
BEGINS WITH JUVENILE FLIRTATION, AND ENDS WITH CANINE CREMATION.
The disreputable nature of the wind which blows good to n.o.body has been so frequently referred to and commented on by writers in general that it merits only pa.s.sing notice here. The particular breeze which fanned the flames that consumed the property that belonged to Miss Lillycrop, and drove that lady to a charming retreat in the country thereby rescuing her from a trying existence in town, also blew small Peter Pax in the same direction.
”Boy,” said Miss Stivergill in stern tones, on the occasion of her first visit to the hospital in which Pax was laid up for a short time after his adventure, ”you're a good boy. I like you. The first of your s.e.x I ever said that to.”
”Thank you, ma'am. I hope I shan't be the last,” returned Pax languidly, for he was still weak from the effects of the partial roasting and suffocation he had undergone.
”Miss Lillycrop desired me to come and see you,” resumed Miss Stivergill. ”She has told me how bravely you tried to rescue poor little Bones, who--”
”Not much hurt, I hope?” asked the boy eagerly.
”No, very little--scarcely at all, I'm glad to say. Those inexplicable creatures called firemen, who seem to me what you may call fire-fiends of a good-natured and recklessly hilarious type, say that her having fallen down with her nose close to the ground, where there is usually a free current of air, saved her. At all events she _is_ saved, and quite well.”
”I hope I didn't haul much of the hair out of her poor head?” said Pax.
”Apparently not, if one may judge from the very large quant.i.ty that remains,” replied his visitor.
”You see, ma'am, in neck-or-nothin' scrimmages o' that sort,” continued Pax, in the off-hand tone of one much experienced in such scrimmages, ”one can't well stop to pick and choose; besides, I couldn't see well, d'ee see? an' her hair came first to hand, you know, an' was convenient.
It's well for both on us, however, that that six foot odd o'