He was wideawake now and quite able to understand that there was danger. His first impulse was to get out of the window and scramble down into safety by the ivy on the wall. His room was on the first floor, the rooms were low and old-fashioned, and he had done it before. Just as he was preparing to scramble out he remembered the servants. The women all slept at the end of a long passage (which went the whole length of the house) through a swing door. Johnny’s end was quite unoccupied, as grandfather had taken his own man with him; the lady who did the housekeeping had gone back to her own home for Christmas, and there were no visitors just then. Ridgeway slept in a wing room built over the pantry close to the back staircase. Half-way down the passage was the turret staircase, and in the turret hung the great bell to be rung to rouse the servants in case of fire or sudden illness. Johnny drew in his head and turned back into his room. The smoke was not quite so bad now, but it was very dark; He opened the door, and as he did so there flowed in great waves and gusts of smoke that drove him back into the room again. It would be much easier to get out of the window and go round to ring the front-door bell, or throw stones at the servants’ windows, or do anything rather than face that stinging, stifling darkness which was not black but grey. It drove him back to the window again, the window with its easy drop out into the sate, kind night of stars and watery moon and cold wet air. But the servants! How was he to warn the servants? And the fire might be spreading. He felt his way to the washstand and dipped one of the towels in water. He wrapped it round his neck like a muffler, covering mouth and nose, and then he opened his door again, ran down the smoke-packed passage as fast as he could; and up the little staircase to the belfry, where he fell gasping, for the acrid smoke was terrible. Here it was better, for the belfry tower was open to the night. Johnny seized the rope and pulled for dear life. How long must he ring before they would all be roused? It was a big, loud bell: he heard it clanging overhead, and insensibly it seemed to swing to the rhythm of these words: "Pray for us, heroes, pray, That when Fate lays on us our task, We do not shame the day." Johnny’s arms were tired and his bare feet were cold. Would they hear? Had he rung long enough? Might he go back to his room now and get out of the window? The smoke was creeping up into the belfry. It was the smoke, of course, that made the tears come into his eyes. Clang, clang, clang, clang—clang, clang! Johnny loosed the rope for a minute and listened. Yes; he heard shouts. They were roused, then: just a few more pulls and he might go.