Presence of mind had never been one of her characteristics and now the awful sense of her danger and her horrible loneliness drove her to distraction. She cried for help, but it seemed to her that she might burn to death before anyone heard her in that remote place. Meanwhile Evereld standing at the wings was watching with keen interest Macneillie’s masterly representation of Shylock, and thinking how handsome Ralph looked as Bassanio, when she was startled by a distant cry. “You take my house when you do take the prop that doth sustain my house,” pleaded Shylock, and at that instant another much more distinct sound--unquestionably a scream--from behind, made Evereld’s heart stand still. Surely it was Ivy’s voice! Without a moment’s hesitation she opened the door leading to the ladies’ dressing rooms, hurried up the stairs and had just gained the passage above, when to her horror she saw Ivy rushing forward her pale green dress all ablaze. Snatching off the warm cloak she had been wearing as she stood at the wings Evereld flung it about the terrified girl, and exerting all her strength almost hurled Ivy to the ground, dismayed to see how the flames were rising towards her face. “Don’t try to get up,” she cried, as Ivy mad with fear and pain would have leapt to her feet again. “Roll over and we shall crush out the fire.” It could have been only two minutes yet it seemed to them hours before others hearing the screams came to the rescue, and by that time Evereld had succeeded in stifling the flames. Macneillie learning directly he came off the stage that something was amiss hurried up to them and was dismayed to find what had happened. “Go at once and get hold of Dr. Grey,” he said turning to the business manager who had been the first to come up. “He is in the front row of the dress circle. Brinton,” he added turning to the Duke of Venice, who was the next to appear, “you will help me to lift her into her dressing-room.” “It is so small and crowded,” said Evereld. “Would not the green room be better? she must be carried down the stairs sooner or later.” “Yes, quite true. Give me your cloak, Brinton, we will throw it over her, and do you go first, Evereld, and see that no one is in the way. We shall get her safely to the green room before the end of the act.” Ivy’s moans as they carried her were drowned in the applause which followed the end of the Trial Scene. And Evereld, not pausing to realise that she was trembling from head to foot, went on before to make ready a place where they could lay her down, and thanks to the promptitude of the business manager the doctor was on the spot almost as soon as they were. Ralph, strolling up the stage a few minutes later, having heard nothing that had passed, was rudely recalled to the present as he approached the little group of people round the green room door. “The doctor has just gone in,” he heard some one say, and the words threw him into a sudden panic of terror.