By degrees the perseverance and heroism of the firemen were rewarded. The fire began to succumb to the copious floods with which it was deluged, and, towards midnight, there was a perceptible diminution in the violence of the flames. There were, however, several temporary outbursts from time to time, which called for the utmost watchfulness and promptitude on the part of the Brigade. During one of these a block of private dwellings nearest to the conflagration was set on fire. So intent was every one on the _great_ fire that this incidental one was not observed until it had gained considerable headway. The buildings were very old and dry, so that, before an engine could be detached from the warehouses, it was in a complete blaze. Most of the inhabitants escaped by the chief staircase before it became impassable, and one or two leaped from the lower windows. It chanced that Joe Dashwood's engine was nearest to this house at the time, and was run up to it. "Now then, lads, look alive," said Joe, as the men affixed the hose and suction-pipe. "Out o' the way!" cried Ned Crashington to two boys who appeared to be rather curious about the operations of the firemen. "I say," exclaimed the Bloater in great excitement, "why--that's the 'ouse w'ere _Martha_ lives!" "Who's Martha?" asked Ned, without interrupting his operation of screwing on an additional length of hose. "W'y, the friend o' Joe Dashwood's wife--Martha--Martha Reading, you know." "Eh!" exclaimed Ned, looking up. At that moment Martha herself appeared at a window in the upper storey, waving her arms and shrieking wildly for help. Men were seen endeavouring to bring forward a fire-escape, but the crowd was so dense as to render this an unusually difficult and slow operation. Without uttering a word, Ned Crashington dashed up the blazing staircase. For a moment he was lost to view, but quickly reappeared, attempting to cross a half-charred beam which overhung a yawning gulf of fire where the first and second floors had just fallen in. Suddenly a dense mass of smoke surrounded him. He staggered, threw up his arms, and was seen to fall headlong into the flames. A deep groan, or cry of horror, arose from the crowd, and wild shouts of "fetch a ladder," "bring up the escape," were heard, while poor Martha got out on the window-sill to avoid the flames, which were rapidly drawing towards and almost scorching her. Just then a man was seen to dash furiously through the crowd, he fought his way madly--knocking down all who opposed him. Gaining the door of the burning house he sprang in. "I say," whispered Little Jim, in an excited voice, "it's Phil Sparks!" "I'm glad to hear it," observed a quiet, broad-shouldered man, who stood near two policemen, to whom he winked knowingly. The Bloater attempted to move off, but one of the policemen detained him. The other detained Little Jim.