Patience Wins Part 70

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"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Uncle Jack, "the cowards! If I had a gun!"

I ran to his side, and in the middle of the dam, paddling towards the outer side, there was a sort of raft with three men upon it, and now they were distinctly seen, for the black water of the dam seemed to have suddenly become tawny gold, lit by a building burning furiously on our right. That building was our furnace-house and the set of smithies and sheds that connected it with the grinding-shops and offices.

Uncle Jack banged to the window and took the command.

"Cob," he cried, "run to the big bell and keep it going. Our lads will come. d.i.c.k, throw open the gate; Bob, follow me. Fire drill. We may nip the blaze in the bud."

The fire-bell was not rung, the gate was not thrown open; for as we ran out of the office and down the stairs it was to step into a pool of naphtha, and in a few instants we found that a quant.i.ty had been poured in at the lower windows--to what extent we could not tell--but it was evident that this had been done all along the bas.e.m.e.nt by the scoundrels on the raft, and that they had contrived that some should reach one of the furnaces, with the result that in an instant the furnace-house had leaped into a ma.s.s of roaring flame, which the brisk gale was fanning and making the fire run along the naphtha-soaked buildings like a wave.

"Stop, stop!" roared Uncle Jack; "we can do nothing to stay this. Back to the offices and secure all books and papers."

So swiftly was the fire borne along by the gale that we had hardly time to reach the staircase before it came running along, licking up the naphtha, of which a large quant.i.ty had been spilled, and as it caught there were dozens of little explosions.

I do not think either of us gave a thought to how we were to get away again, for the valuable books and plans had to be saved at all hazards; so following Uncle Jack we rushed into the big office, the safe was opened, and as rapidly as possible a couple of tin boxes were filled with account-books, and a number of papers were bound round with string.

"You must look sharp," said Uncle Bob.

"But we must take my books, and odds and ends, and fis.h.i.+ng-tackle," I cried.

"Better try and save our lives," said Uncle Bob. "Are you ready?"

"No; there are some plans we must take," said Uncle d.i.c.k.

"You must leave them," shouted Uncle Bob. "There, you are too late!" he cried, banging to the door at the end of the workshop; "the flame's coming up the stairs."

"We can get out of the windows," said Uncle Jack coolly.

"The place beneath is all on fire," cried Uncle Bob, flinging himself on his knees. "The floor's quite hot."

We should have been suffocated only that there was a perfect rush of cold air through the place, but moment by moment this was becoming hot and poisonous with the gases of combustion. The flames were rus.h.i.+ng out of the grinding-shop windows beneath us, and the yard on one side, the dam on the other, were light as day.

In one glance over the fire and smoke I saw our wall covered with workmen and boys, some watching, some dropping over into the yard.

While in a similar rapid glance on the other side I saw through the flame and smoke that on one side the dam bank was covered with spectators, on the other there were three men just climbing off a rough raft and descending towards the stream just below.

"Now," said Uncle Jack, seizing one box, "I can do no more. Each of you take your lot and let's go."

"But where?--how?" I panted.

"Phew!"

Uncle Jack gave vent to a long whistle that was heard above the crackling wood, the roar of flames carried along by the wind, and the shouts and cries of the excited crowd in the yard.

"It's worse than I thought," said Uncle Jack. "We can't get down. Keep cool, boys. We must save our papers. Here, there is less fire at that window than at either of the others--let's throw the boxes out there.

They'll take care of them."

We ran to the far corner window, but as we reached it a puff of flame and smoke curved in and drove us back.

It was so with every window towards the yard, and escape was entirely cut off.

The men were trying to do something to save us, for there was a tremendous noise and excitement below; but they could do absolutely nothing, so rapidly had the grinding-shop beneath us been turned into a fiery furnace.

And now the flames had mastered the end door, which fell inward, and flame and black and gold clouds of smoke rolled in.

"Quick, Cob!--into the office!" roared Uncle d.i.c.k; and I darted in with some of the papers, followed by the rest, Uncle Jack banging to the door.

"Keep cool, all of you," he cried. "I must save these books and papers."

"But we must save our lives, Jack," said Uncle d.i.c.k. "The floor's smoking. Our only chance is to jump into the dam."

"Through that blaze of flame!" said Uncle Bob gloomily.

"It is our only chance," said Uncle Jack; "but let's try to save our boxes as well. They will float if we take care."

"Now, then, who's first?"

The window was open, the tin boxes and the packets on the table, the dam beneath but invisible; for the flame and smoke that rose from the window below came like a fiery curtain between us and the water; and it was through this curtain that we should have to plunge.

Certainly it would be a momentary affair, and then we should be in the clear cold water; but the idea of taking such a leap made even my stout uncles shrink and vainly look round for some other means of escape.

But there were none that we could see. Above the roar and crackling of the flames we could hear the shouting of the mob and voices shrieking out more than crying, "Jump! Jump!" Everything, though, was one whirl of confusion; and I felt half-stifled with the terrible heat and the choking fumes that came up between the boards and beneath the door.

It was rapidly blinding as well as confusing us; and in those exciting moments leaders.h.i.+p seemed to have gone, and if even I had made a bold start the others would have followed.

At last after what seemed to have been a long s.p.a.ce of time, though it was doubtless only moments, Uncle Jack cried fiercely:

"Look: the floor's beginning to burn. You, d.i.c.k, out first, Cob shall follow; and we'll drop the two tin boxes to you. You must save them.

Now! Are you ready?"

"Yes," cried Uncle d.i.c.k, climbing on a chair, and thrusting his arm out of the window.

As he did so, there was a puff like some gigantic firework, and a large cloud of fiery smoke rose up full of tiny sparks; and he shrank back with an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of pain.

"Hot, d.i.c.k?" cried Uncle Jack almost savagely. "Go on, lad; it will be hotter here. In five minutes the floor will be burned through."

"Follow quickly, Cob," cried Uncle d.i.c.k; and then he paused, for there was a curious rus.h.i.+ng noise, the people yelled, and there were shrieks and cries, and above all, a great trampling of feet.

We could see nothing for the flame and smoke that rose before the window; and just then the roar of the flames seemed to increase, and our position became unendurable.

But still that was a curious rus.h.i.+ng noise in the air, a roar as of thunder and pouring, hissing rain, and a railway train rus.h.i.+ng by and coming nearer and nearer every moment; and then, as Uncle d.i.c.k was about to step forth into the blaze and leap into the dam, Uncle Jack caught him and held him back.

Almost at the same moment the rush and roar increased a hundred-fold, confusing and startling us, and then, as if by magic, there was a tremendous thud against the walls that shook the foundations; a fierce hissing noise, and one moment we were standing in the midst of glowing light, the next moment we were to our waists in water dashed against the opposite wall, and all was black darkness.

As we struggled to our feet the water was sinking, but the horrible cras.h.i.+ng, rus.h.i.+ng noise was still going on--water, a huge river of water was rus.h.i.+ng right through our factory threatening to sweep it away, and then the flood seemed to sink as quickly as it had come, and we stood holding hands, listening to the gurgling rush that was rapidly dying away.

"What is it?" panted Uncle Bob.

"Life. Thank heaven, we are saved!" said Uncle d.i.c.k fervently.

"Amen!" exclaimed Uncle Jack. "Why, d.i.c.k," he cried, "that great dam up in the hills must have burst and come sweeping down the vale!"

Patience Wins Part 70

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Patience Wins Part 70 summary

You're reading Patience Wins Part 70. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 643 views.

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