Part 19 (1/2)
As we reached the story in which were the sleeping apartments, I cried:
”Great G.o.d! Why don't some of the family move or speak?”
Hitherto Reuben had realized only the peril of his home; but now he rushed into his mother's room, calling her in a tone that I shall never forget.
A second later he uttered my name in a strange, awed tone, and I entered hesitatingly. Little Zillah apparently lay sleeping in her crib, and Mrs. Yocomb was kneeling by her bedside.
”Mother!” said Reuben, in a loud whisper.
She did not answer.
He knelt beside her, put his arm around her, and said, close to her ear, ”Mother! why don't you speak to me?” She made no response, and I saw that she leaned so heavily forward on the bed as to indicate utter unconsciousness.
The boy sprang up, and gazed at me with wild questioning in his eyes.
”Reuben!” I said quickly, ”she's only stunned by the lightning. Will you prove yourself a man, and help me in what must be done? Life may depend upon it.”
”Yes,” eagerly.
”Then help me lift your mother on the bed; strong and gentle, now--that's it.”
I put my hand over her heart.
”She is not dead,” I exclaimed joyously; ”only stunned. Let us go to the attic again, for we must keep shelter this wild night.”
We found that the smoke had perceptibly lessened; I dashed the other pail of water on the spot that had been burning, then found that I could place my hand on it. We had been just in time, for there was light woodwork near that communicated with the floor, and the attic was full of dry lumber, and herbs hanging here and there, that would have burned like tinder. Had these been burning we could not have entered the garret, and as it was we breathed with great difficulty. The roof still resounded to the fall of such torrents that I felt that the dwelling was safe, unless it had become ignited in the lower stories, and it was obviously our next duty to see whether this was the case.
”Reuben,” I said, ”fill the pails once more, while I look through the house and see if there's fire anywhere else. It's clear that all who were in the house were stunned--even you were, slightly, on the piazza--so don't give way to fright on their account. If you do as I bid, you may do much to save their lives; but we must first make sure the house is safe. If it isn't, we must carry them all out at once.”
He comprehended me, and went for the water instantly.
I again looked into Mrs. Yocomb's room. It was impregnated with a strong sulphurous odor, and I now saw that there was a discolored line down the wall adjoining the chimney, and that little Zillah's crib stood nearer the scorching line of fire than Mrs. Yocomb had been. But the child looked quiet and peaceful, and I hastened away.
My own room was dark and safe. I opened the door of Miss Warren's room, and a flash of lightning, followed by complete darkness, showed that nothing was amiss.
I then opened another door, and first thought the apartment on fire, it was so bright; but instantly saw that two lamps were burning, and that Adah lay dressed upon the bed, with her face turned toward them. By this common device she had sought to deaden the vivid lightning. Her face was white as the pillow on which it rested; her eyes were closed, and from her appearance she might have been sleeping or dead. Even though almost overwhelmed with dread, I could not help noting her wonderful beauty. In my abnormal and excited condition of mind, however, it seemed a natural and essential part of the strange, unexpected experiences of the day.
I was now convinced that there was no fire in the second story, and the thought of Miss Warren drew me instantly away. I already had a strange sense of self-reproach that I had not gone to her at once, feeling as if I had discarded the first and most sacred claim. I met Reuben on the stairway, and told him that the second story was safe, and asked him to look through the first story and cellar, and then to go for a physician as fast as the fleetest horse could carry him.
CHAPTER XIII
THE LIGHTNING AND A SUBTLER FLAME
On entering the parlor, I found Mr. Yocomb standing up and looking around in a dazed manner. He did not seem to know me, and in my deep anxiety I did not heed him. Kneeling beside Miss Warren, I found that her pulse was very feeble. I lifted her gently upon the sofa, and threw open a window, so that the damp, gusty wind, full of spray from the rain, might blow in upon her.
Mr. Yocomb laid his hand heavily on my shoulder, and asked, in a thick voice, ”What does it all mean?”
I saw that he was deathly pale, and that he tottered. Taking his arm, I supported him to a lounge in the hall, and said, ”Mr. Yocomb, you were taken ill. You must lie down quietly till the physician comes.”