At last, when the fire began to burn, and the suffocating smoke to roll out, people hung back, and cries were raised for the engine and for buckets of water. But the barrack engine was already there, at the far end of the wreck, and the soldiers who manned it were striving hard to get out the hose and fit it together. "My niece! my niece!" shrieked a voice close by; and, recognising the frantic woman who strove to escape from those who held her and to aid in the search, Dick made a fresh plunge in beneath the canvas, working round, cutting himself badly, and still in vain, till, half-suffocated, he was forced to try and creep back, but only to find that there in the darkness, where he was crawling, he had lost his way. For a few minutes his senses reeled, and he felt as if all were over; but he recovered directly, for, in groping along, his hands touched something soft--a warm, bare arm, and the next minute he realised its owner's position. She was held tightly by someone, and there were pieces of the frame of the marquee and a portion of a pole forcing them down; while over all the folds of the canvas and drapery lay thick. Left to himself Dick, and those whom he had found, must have perished; but as he struggled up, and beat at the tent overhead, there arose assuring shouts from without. Orders were given; as many men as could get a grip of the canvas seized it, and, just as Dick's senses were going, a strip of the marquee was dragged from over them, and then willing hands extricated the lady and the officer, who had evidently fallen with her while trying to bear her forth. A few moments in the free air revived Dick, and he gasped out, as the men around began to talk-- "Who--who was it?" "Mr Lacey--a lady," were the words that came back. That was enough. He felt sure of whom it would be, and turned once more towards the ridge of wood and canvas, from which flames were now beginning to leap. "Keep back, my lad! Are you mad?" shouted an officer.--"Here--quick now--pass buckets!" Dick's answer was to give his hand a wave and dash right in among the smoke, two soldiers who tried to stop him just missing his arm as he plunged in. "Here, who was that?" cried the colonel, who now came up, panting. "One of the bandsmen, sir--the lad must have gone mad!" "No," cried the colonel; "he must have known that someone was still there. The orchestra was there at that end; he has gone to save one of his comrades. Pass the buckets, my lads.--A dozen, here: take this piece of canvas and haul!" The men seized the piece pointed out and dragged at it, when a volume of smoke rolled forth; and as they got it farther away, and let in the air, there was a flash of light and then a report, as a jet of flame shot up into the air, followed by a steady, fluttering spurt of light, for a huge jet from a broken gas-pipe burned furiously.