Judy shuffled off, lamenting, but Roseen sat still at her open
casement, pondering mournfully on the misfortunes which had
overwhelmed those she loved, and bewailing her impotence to help them.
Soon all was absolutely still; the house was wrapt in slumber, and at
last, rising, chilled and weary, the girl prepared to go to rest. As
she closed the window her eye was caught by a curious appearance in
the sky, immediately above the long line of the regularly shaped
stacks in the haggard. The big hayrick particularly was defined with
curious clearness against what seemed to be a glow in the sky. As she
looked a sudden tongue of flame sprang out from the western corner,
and ran leaping up the great dark mass, spreading and widening as it
went; then sparks were thrown out, and Roseen suddenly realised that
the great rick, composed of tons upon tons of hay, worth at this
moment a fortune in itself, was on fire. Screaming she rushed
frantically to the door, but owing to Peter's forethought she was
locked in. In vain she hammered and shrieked; no one heeded her. Such
labourers as remained on the premises at night slept over the stables;
the two maid-servants whom Peter employed only came by day. If Judy
heard, she had not the sense to heed; and old Peter himself, snuggling
into his pillows, merely turned over when the din reached his ears,
muttering to himself with righteous indignation that a body would
think the girl would know better nor behave that way, but let her
shout as much as she liked an' tire herself out, she'd be apt to be a
bit quieter in the mornin'. Meanwhile the little flame, which Roseen
had first seen, had grown apace. The slight crackling sound which had
originally accompanied its progress, was replaced by a sullen roar;
volumes of ruddy smoke filled the air; a pungent, peculiar smell
penetrated even to Roseen's room, almost suffocating her. Would no one
hear, would no one heed? Taking the poker she knocked on the floor,
hoping to produce some response from her grandfather, but finding that
he did not answer she fell to hammering and battering the lock of her
door with such vigour and good-will that at last she succeeded in
breaking it. Rushing down stairs, candle in hand, she burst in upon
old Peter.
"Get up, grandfather, get up at wanst! the big rick is on fire, and
will be burnt to a cinder if you don't make haste." Old Peter sat up,
blinking at the light, and at first refusing to believe Roseen; but
when the girl flung open the window and he saw and heard for himself
that the alarm was only too well founded, he fairly burst out crying
like a child.
"Me rick, me beautiful rick! I'm ruined and destroyed entirely!
What'll I do at all?"
"Get up!" said Roseen sharply, "and let's get all the help we can.
I'll run out an' call Jack an' Barney, an' do you put on your clothes
an' fill the stable bucket."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account