"I'll come again, if there is anything of consequence to report. I'm
certain you'll be all right here. You haven't worried too much, have
you?"
"Well, the waiting has been pretty bad," the girl confessed.
"Then don't worry any more, either of you, for if there should be the
slightest danger, I'll come back at once."
Helen hesitated a moment.
"Mr. Smith promised to come and 'save us,' if we needed saving," she
said, with the merest trace of a flush.
"Ah," replied her uncle, slowly. "Then I think we may safely leave
your rescue to him. I will come as a reporter only. Good-by."
From the time of his departure there had been no visitor from the
outside world until Smith's ring came as the clock made ready to strike
nine. Helen herself opened the door, as the maid had gone downstairs
for further enlightenment from the authorities below; and Miss Maitland
found herself confronted by a man whom at first she hardly recognized,
so hollow-eyed, so weary, and withal so grimy did he look. Her little
start at seeing him was noted by Smith, and he guessed the reason for
it.
"Don't be alarmed," he said, with a shadow of his old smile. "Under
all the disguises it's really I. I know that I must look like a
dissipated coal heaver, but I flatter myself that you'll be glad to see
me, just the same, for I came to tell you that the danger is over--the
fire is practically out."
"Then you must come in and let me get you something to eat," said the
girl.
"Thank you very much, but I don't think I will. Somehow I don't seem
to feel very hungry. But I'm horribly sleepy. I don't believe I was
ever so sleepy in my life. So good-night."
But she stood with her back to the door.
"Where did you intend to go?" she demanded. "The hotels that are not
burned are probably filled to the brim. Besides, your clothes are
here. You can't go away. You must stay here."
"That's awfully kind of you, to offer to take me in," the other
rejoined; "but you cannot house a disreputable chimney sweep.
Besides--"
But she did not give him any opportunity to complete the sentence.
"Don't be absurd; you're usually quite sensible. Mother and I had it
all decided hours ago. You're to stay with us. Your room is all ready
for you--and your bath," she added.
He acknowledged the touch with an appreciative but weary smile.
"Well, then, if you really don't mind, I'll take you up," he said.
"Will you have supper first?"
"Thanks, no--nothing but sleep. I'm ashamed of being so fearfully
tired--you must excuse me. But I don't believe any man can stay awake
indefinitely."
"No, I don't believe any man can," Helen agreed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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