A deafening, splitting crash brought an outcry from the children, and Benedicta dashed into the kitchen, a boy in her arms, both streaming with water. “Where’s that--fire put-outer?” she gasped. “Quick! Study’s struck! All afire! Two boys more there!” In a moment Benedicta and Mrs. Daybill with the extinguisher were racing across to the Study, while Polly rushed to rescue Little Duke who was still on the veranda. To her horror she found him limp and unconscious, a shivered, blackened floor telling the story. Inside she tried remedy after remedy, to the accompaniment of shrieking, panic-stricken children, and a tumultuous heart full of sickening fear. Benedicta and the nurse returned with Timmy and Jeffy and reported the fire out. Mrs. Daybill took Polly’s place by Little Duke. The boy though still breathing was unconscious. “I think he will come out all right in a few minutes,” she assured Polly; yet the moments passed and he remained the same. Meanwhile the storm lingered, but the thunderbolts seemed not quite so near. Polly stood over the child holding his wrist. “I’m going to Overlook for a doctor!” she announced, darting toward the kitchen. “Indeed, you are not!” vetoed Benedicta. “If anybody goes, that’s me!” “No, no!” cried Polly. “I--” “Teeters and tongs!” broke in the housekeeper, “I’m goin’!” And pushing the girl gently back she dashed off, her dress leaving a trail of drops on the polished floor. “Oh, don’t go!” pleaded Mrs. Daybill, as a heavy crash overhead and a dazzling glare through the room told that the storm was still with them. “It’s ’most over!” called Benedicta. “I’ll be all right.” She was putting on rubbers over her drenched slippers. Then she took her raincoat from its nail behind the door, and crossed the kitchen. Polly ran out. “You can’t control the car in this rain,” she urged, seizing Benedicta’s arm. “You must not go!” “Let me alone! I’ll put on the chains.” The door shut behind her, and shortly the car had started on its trip down the mountain. The children were whimpering. Little Duke lay white and motionless; only the soft breathing told of life. “She’ll be struck and die, just like Little Duke!” wailed Clementina. Which was the signal for a general shower of tears. “Don’t! Don’t!” begged Mrs. Daybill. “Little Duke isn’t dead and he isn’t going to be! He is only stunned. He’ll be all right before the doctor gets here--see if he isn’t!” The cheery tone more than the words soothed the frightened children, and something like quiet began to prevail. Little Duke was now in bed, Polly doing what she could in his behalf. It was long before Benedicta returned. The storm had passed, though clouds hung dark and heavy above Overlook Mountain. It was dusky inside. Polly stepped out on the veranda, to see if the doctor had come. The car seemed to be full--yes, Lilith and Dr. Abbe were there and another man besides. He jumped out, and Polly caught her breath--it was David Collins! CHAPTER XXVI