“The only man I saw who behaved really badly,” said one lady, who had evidently been instrumental in saving several children, and whose dress was much burnt in consequence, “was one of the actors from upstairs, who came flying down, and pushed and fought his way out without heeding anything or anybody. He overturned several little children, and one of them would have been trampled to death had not a policeman snatched it up. I was really glad to see another man—a fireman, I believe—give the young man a sound cuff on the side of his head that sent him reeling out into the open. I won’t say that nobody else hustled or pushed—at a time like that one cannot observe everything—but I saw no one else disgrace his manhood in that way.” “Shameful,” said Mr. Tom sternly. “One of the actors, you say. One ought to be able to find out who it was.” “He had on a white satin suit—that made him the more conspicuous. I suppose he had completely lost his head. One must not be too hard on people who do that; but one rather hates to see it.” At that moment the door opened and Cyril came airily in. His cheek was very red, as though from some sort of injury, and his mother sprang forward exclaiming— “Oh, my boy, did you get burned?” Cyril put up his hand and laughed. “Did I? I did not notice. One has not time to think of that sort of thing at such a time. Besides, I was out of it sooner than many. I was afraid the people in the council room, which was the theatre, would be cut off from help. I made a dash for it to get the fire-escape brought round to them at the windows. One could not tell at the outset how fast the fire would spread. I was horribly afraid they would all be suffocated up there, whilst the energies of the rescuers were directed to the larger hall. I’m afraid I was rather unceremonious in my flight, but, at any rate, I accomplished my purpose, and that’s the great thing.” Sheila and May exchanged quick glances. Was that really Cyril’s motive in making that wild bolt? Certainly it had not been the impression produced upon those who had heard and seen him at the time. His father looked at him steadily, and said— “I hope you were not the man in white satin, who overturned little children and pushed aside women and girls in his determination to get out. Whatever your motive, nothing could excuse conduct like that.” Cyril’s face flushed, but he answered airily— “In such confusion I think nobody can quite say what it is that happens. I am quite willing to bear any odium my townspeople like to put upon me, so long as I know that I was in time to accomplish my errand, and send the escape to the windows where my sisters and cousins were waiting.” Nobody spoke for a few minutes, and then Raby remarked slowly— “It was Lionel Benson who went for the escape and brought it.”