"The fire!"--"help!"--"water!"--rose in a confused babble.

"Back, every one of you, and get a bucket!" cried the squire. "You, Hickathrift, run into the wood-house and bring an axe."

"Aw, reight, squire!" cried the wheelwright, and in another minute every man was off at a trot following d.i.c.k's father, and all armed with a weapon likely to be of service against the enemy which was rapidly conquering the prosperous little farm at Grimsey.

Two miles form a long distance in a case of emergency, and before the party were half-way there they began to grow breathless, and there was a disposition evinced to drop into a walk. One or two of those in advance checked their rate, others followed, and for the next two or three hundred yards the rescuers kept to a foot-pace, breathing heavily the while, and speaking in s.n.a.t.c.hes.

"Which is it, d.i.c.k--the house or the great stack?"

"I can't see, father," panted the lad; "sometimes it seems one, sometimes both."

"Stacks, squire, I think," cried Hickathrift. "I don't think house is afire yet, but it must catch the thack before long."

The faint sound of a dog barking at a distance now reached their ears, but it was evidently not from the direction of the farm, and the squire's thoughts were put into words by d.i.c.k, who, as he looked on now between his father and the wheelwright, exclaimed in a hoa.r.s.e voice:

"Why, father, don't they know that the place is on fire?"

"Nay, that they don't," cried the wheelwright excitedly. "They're all asleep."

"Let's run faster," cried d.i.c.k.

"No. We have a long way to go yet," cried the squire, "and if we run faster we shall be too much exhausted to help."

"But, father--oh, it is so dreadful!" cried d.i.c.k, as in imagination he pictured horror after horror.

"Can you run, d.i.c.k--faster?"

"Yes, father, yes."

"I can't," panted Hickathrift; "I've growed too heavy."

"Run on, then, and shout and batter the door. We'll get up as quickly as we can."

"Ay, roon, Master d.i.c.k, roon!" cried the wheelwright. "Fire's ketched the thack."

d.i.c.k doubled his fists, drew a long breath, and made a rush, which took him fifty yards in advance. Then he trotted on at the same pace as the others; rushed again; and so on at intervals, getting well ahead of the rest. But never, in the many times he had been to and fro, had he so thoroughly realised how rough and awkward was the track, and how long it took to get to Grimsey farm.

As he ran on, it was with the fire glowing more brightly in his face, and the various objects growing more distinct, while there was something awful in the terrible silence that seemed to prevail, in the midst of which a great body of fire steadily rose, in company with a cloud of smoke, which was spangled with tiny flakes that seemed to be of gold.

Tree, shed, barn, and chimney-stack, too, seemed to have been turned to the brilliant metal; but to the lad's great relief he saw that the wheelwright was wrong, the "thack" had not caught, and so far the house was safe, though the burning stacks were so near that at any moment the roof of the reed-thatched house might begin to blaze.

At last there was a sound--one that might have been going on before, but kept by the distance from reaching d.i.c.k's ear--a c.o.c.k crowed loudly, and there was a loud cackling from the barn where the fowls roosted.

Then came the lowing of a cow; but all was perfectly still at the house, and it seemed astounding that no one should have been alarmed.

Only another hundred yards or so and the farm would be reached. d.i.c.k had settled down to a much slower speed. There was a sensation as if the fire that shone in his face had made his breath scorching, so that it burned his chest, while his feet were being weighted with lead.

"Tom!" he tried to shout as he drew near; but his voice was a hoa.r.s.e whisper, and it seemed to be drowned by the steady beat of the feet behind upon the road.

"Tom!" he cried again, but with no better result, as he staggered on by the wide drain which ran right up to the farm buildings from the big pool in the fen where the reeds were cut.

And now that full drain and the pool gleamed golden, as if they too were turned to fire, as d.i.c.k pushed by, realising that the hay-stack, the great seed-stack, and the little stack of oats were blazing together, not furiously, but with the flame rising up in a steady silent manner which was awful.

There was a rough piece of stone in the way, against which d.i.c.k caught his foot and nearly fell; but he saved himself, stooped, and picked up the stone; and as he panted up to the long low red-brick farm, he hurled it through a window on his left, and then fell up against, more than stopped at, the door, against which he beat and kicked with all his might.

The crashing in of the leaded pane cas.e.m.e.nt had, however, acted like the key which had unlocked the silent farmstead.

Tom Tallington rushed to the window.

"Who's--"

He would probably have said "that," but he turned his sentence into the cry of "Fire! fire!"

The alarm spread in an instant. Farmer Tallington's window was thrown open; and as he realised all, he dashed back, and then the rest of the party came panting up, and Hickathrift cried, "Stand clear, Mester d.i.c.k!"

He threw himself against the door, to burst it open, just as the farmer came down, half carrying his wife wrapped in a blanket, and Tom ran out, to dart down to the end of the long low building where a second tenement formed the sleeping-place of the two men and a big lad who worked upon the farm.

They were already aroused, and came out hurrying on their clothes, while the squire and Hickathrift got out the women, who, with Mrs Tallington, were hurried into a cart-shed.

"Why, neighbour, you'd have been burned in your bed!" cried the squire.

"Now, lads, all of you form line."

"She's caught now!" shouted Hickathrift, who had been round to the back.

"Then we must put it out," said the squire, as he busily ranged his men, and those of Farmer Tallington, so that they reached from the nearest point of the big drain to the corner of the farm, and in a double line, so that full buckets of water could be pa.s.sed along one and returned empty along the other.

"Hickathrift, you go and dip."

"Ay, ay, squire!" roared the great fellow, and he rushed down to the water's edge like a bull, while the squire went to the other end.

"Neighbour," cried Farmer Tallington excitedly, "you'll go on, wean't you? I must get in and bring out a few writings and things I'd like to save."

"Here, Tom, let's you and me get out the clothes and things."

"Yes, and the small bits of furniture, boys," cried the squire. "Now, my lads, ready!"

There was a general shout from the men, who fell into their places with the prompt.i.tude that always follows when they have a good leader.

"Get all you can out in case," shouted the squire; "but we're going to save the house."

"Hurrah!" shouted the men as they heard this bold a.s.sertion, which the squire supplemented by saying between his teeth, "Please G.o.d!"

"Bring up that ladder," cried the squire--"two of them."

These were planted against the end of the house, and none too soon, for the corner nearest the burning stacks was beginning to blaze furiously, and the fire steadily running up, while a peculiar popping and crackling began to be heard as the flames attacked the abundant ivy which mounted quite to the chimney-stack.

"Ho! ho! ho! ho!" came now from the front of the cart-shed in a regular bellowing cry.

"What is it, wench--what is it?" cried Farmer Tallington, as he hurried out of the burning house, laden with valuables, which he handed to his quiet business-like wife.