a glow on the horizon—a fantastic peal—what i saw when the roof fell in.
it was the second day of our return voyage. mr. rowe had been very kind, and especially so to me. he had told us tales of seafaring life, but they related exclusively to the royal navy, and not unfrequently bore with disparagement on the mercantile marine.
nowhere, perhaps, are grades of rank more strongly marked with professional discipline and personal independence better combined than in the army and navy. but the gulf implied by mr. rowe between the youngest midshipman and the highest seaman who was not an officer was, i think, in excess of the fact. as to becoming cabin-boy to a trading vessel in hopes of rising to be a captain, the barge-master contrived to impress me with the idea that i might as well take the situation of boot and knife cleaner in the royal kitchen, in hopes of its proving [132]the first step towards ascending the throne.
we seemed to have seen and done so much since we were on the canal before, that i felt quite sentimental as we glided into linnet flash.
"the old place looks just the same, barge-master," said i with a travelled air.
"so it do, sir," said mr. rowe; and he added—"there's no place like home."
i hardly know how near we were to the town, but i know that it was getting late, that the dew was heavy on the towing-path, and that among the dark pencilled shadows of the sallows in the water the full moon's reflection lay like a golden shield; when the driver, who was ahead, stepped back and shouted—"the bells are ringing!"
when we got a little nearer we heard them quite clearly, and just when i was observing a red glow diffuse itself in the cold night sky above the willow hedge on our left, mr. rowe said, "there must be a queer kind of echo somewhere, i heard sixteen bells."
and then i saw the driver, whose figure stood out dark against the moonlit moorland on our right, point with his arm to the fast crimsoning sky, and mr. rowe left the rudder and came forward, and fred, who had had his head low down listening, ran towards us from the bows and cried,
"there are sixteen, and they're ringing backwards—it's a fire!"
[133]
the driver mounted the horse, which was put to the trot, and we hurried on. the bells came nearer and nearer with their fantastic clanging, and the sky grew more lurid as they rang. then there was a bend in the canal, and we caught sight of the two towers of s. philip and s. james, dark against the glow.
"the whole town is in flames!" cried fred.
"not it," said the barge-master; "it's ten to one nothing but a rubbish-heap burning, or the moors on fire beyond the town."
mr. rowe rather snubbed fred, but i think he was curious about the matter. the driver urged his horse, and the good barge betsy swung along at a pace to which she was little accustomed.
when we came by the cricket-field mr. rowe himself said—"it's in the middle of the town."
through the deafening noise of the bells i contrived to shout in his ear a request that i might be put ashore, as we were now about on a level with my home. mr. rowe ran a plank quickly out and landed me, without time for adieux.
i hastened up to the town. the first street i got into was empty, but it seemed to vibrate to s. philip's peal. and after that i pushed my way through people, hurrying as i was hurrying, and the nearer i got to home the thicker grew the crowd and [134]the ruddier became the glow. and now, in spite of the bells, i caught other noises. the roar of irresistible fire,—which has a strange likeness to the roar of irresistible water,—the loud crackling of the burning wood, and the moving and talking of the crowd, which was so dense that i could hardly get forward.
i contrived to squeeze myself along, however, and as i turned into our street i felt the warmth of the fire, and when i looked at my old home it was a mass of flames.
i tried to get people to make way for me by saying—"it's my house, please let me through!" but nobody seemed to hear me. and yet there was a pause, which was only filled by that curious sound when a crowd of people gasp or sigh; and if every man had been a rock it could not have been more impossible to move backwards or forwards. it was dark, except for the moonlight, where i stood, but in a moment or two the flames burst from the bedroom windows, and the red light spread farther, and began to light up faces near me. i was just about to appeal to a man i knew, when a roar began which i knew was not that of the fire. it was the roar of human voices. and when it swelled louder, and was caught up as it came along, and then broke into deafening cheers, i was so wild with excitement and anxiety that i began to kick the legs of the man in front of me to make him [135]let me go to the home that was burning before my eyes.
what he would have done in return, i don't know, but at this moment the crowd broke up, and we were pushed, and pressed, and jostled about, and people kept calling to "make way!" and after tumbling down, and being picked up twice, i found myself in the front row of a kind of lane that had been made through the crowd, down which several men were coming, carrying on their shoulders an arm-chair with people in it.
as they passed me there was a crash, which seemed to shake the street. the roof of our house had fallen in!
as it fell the flames burst upon every side, and in the sudden glare the street became as bright as day, and every little thing about one seemed to spring into sight. half the crowd was known to me in a moment.
then i looked at the chair which was being carried along; and by a large chip on one of the legs i knew it was my father's old arm-chair.
and in the chair i saw rupert in his shirt and trousers, and henrietta in a petticoat and an out-door jacket, with so white a face that even the firelight seemed to give it no colour, and on her lap was baby cecil in his night-gown, with black smut marks on his nose and chin.
