CHAPTER XIV

The Fire

IN a few days' time, Edmund had settled down very happily with his cousins. He was out of doors a great deal. Bates took him fishing, and Raikes, the gamekeeper, let him go with him through the woods. Freda and Daffy were almost envious, he was allowed to do so many things that were refused to them. And then they were all invited to spend the afternoon with Dreamikins, and they went through the park, and crawled through the little door, for Nurse let the three of them go alone.

There was no doubt about it that Nurse had a soft spot in her heart for boys. She seemed to think that Edmund was steady and good; but when Nurse was away from him he behaved rather differently. Dreamikins and he were soon the greatest friends, though they disagreed upon nearly every point that was discussed; but Dreamikins always got her way in the end.

Edmund started playing hockey upon the lawn at the Dower House. Fibo lent them some walking-sticks and a tennis ball, and cheered them on from the window of his study, where he lay on his couch watching them. And after tea they roasted chestnuts on the bars of the study fire, and Fibo told them funny stories. When Edmund walked home he said:

"Captain Arnold is just ripping! I wish I lived with him instead of you!"

"You must call him Fibo like we do," said Freda; "and that's rather a rude thing to say to us."

"But I agree with him," said Daffy quickly; "I would much rather live with Fibo than with Nurse. Fibo wants us to be happy and have fun—we can see it in his eyes."

"I mean to have my fireworks soon," said Edmund, very firmly. "Nurse keeps putting off the day, but I shall have them without asking her. Look here! When we go to bed to-night, and Nurse goes down to supper, you come out in the long passage between my room and yours, and I'll let off a cracker. It will be such fun!"

Daffy danced with excitement, and Freda said:

"All right, we will! I wish Dreamikins was with us!"

"We'll go out one night, and let some off outside her window."

"Oh, we couldn't!"

"I could," said Edmund, "and I will. I don't believe Nurse will ever settle the time to have them, so I shall do it without asking."

Freda and Daffy felt very uncomfortable when they were undressing and saying their prayers that night. When Nurse had left them in bed, Freda said:

"I left out 'make me a good girl' in my prayers to-night, because I mean to be wicked—just for once. It's always Nurse makes us wicked, because she tries to keep us from having fun."

"Fibo would say that was a mean excuse," said Daffy, wriggling in her bed.

They both were conscious that they were behaving badly when they crept out of their beds in dressing-gowns and slippers, and went along the passage towards Edmund's room. Nurse and Jane were downstairs. The long passage was only dimly lighted at one end. Edmund was ready. He came out of his room with mischief written all over his face.

"Isn't this ripping?" he said, producing a box of matches in one hand and the cracker in the other.

"What does it do?" asked Freda a little nervously. "Is it like the rockets at the Crystal Palace?"

"No; it leaps and bounds along the ground. I run with it a little way. Now then!" He applied his match, raced along the passage, and then flung it from him. There was an explosion, and then another, and another, as the cracker bounded up and down in the passage, then it leapt over the staircase and fell with a hiss and a bang in the hall. The noise and flames almost frightened the little girls, and then a door burst open below, and the frightened servants, headed by Nurse, came upon the scene. Freda and Daffy fled back to bed and buried their heads under the clothes. Edmund did the same, but Nurse knew he must be the culprit and went straight to his room. She was so angry that she boxed his ears soundly, then pounced upon the small square box of fireworks in his room and carried it off.

"I shall lock these up. Not one of them shall you have again while you stay with us. I'm right down ashamed of you. There was I, thinking you were such a good young gentleman, and you get up to this! Don't you know you might have burned us in our beds?"

Edmund was white with fury. Nurse's quick chastisement had taken him so by surprise that he had not had time to protest or excuse himself. He had never been whipped or struck before, and if Nurse had not gone out of the room so quickly he would have hit her back. The loss of his fireworks made him more furious still. He sprang out of bed, opened his door, and watched where she went.

She walked down the passage to a door rather near the nurseries; she put the box inside, then came out, locked the door, and slipped the key of it in her pocket. It was really a store cupboard where she kept a lot of rubbish that she did not want—brown paper, cardboard boxes, and old rags and her mending-bags.

Then she went into the nurseries and banged the door behind her.

Down the passage crept Edmund, matchbox still in hand.

"Now I will give you something to frighten you, you old brute!" he muttered. "I'll set those fireworks going where they are!"

Without a thought of the possible danger of such a deed, Edmund lighted a screw of paper and stuffed it under the door. He thought it would soon reach the box and explode. He pushed several lighted matches under as well, and then ran back to bed, and waited for the explosion that he felt would follow.

It did not come as soon as he expected. If he had only been inside that cupboard he would have known why. His piece of lighted paper had been more mischievous than he had imagined. It had ignited a roll of soft paper on the floor. The flames had spread from that to other pieces of paper, then the cardboard boxes had caught fire, and soon the store cupboard was a raging furnace.

Then the fireworks exploded, and it was a merciful providence they did. Nurse was preparing to get into bed. She bounced out of her nursery, and saw with horror flames and smoke pouring out of the door close to her. In an instant she had rung all the bells she could lay her hands on, seized hold of Bertie and the little girls, wrapped them in blankets, and dragged them down the passage, calling to Edmund to follow them.

Then ensued an hour of intense horror and confusion. From the big hall below the children watched the flames leaping and bounding round the big gallery. The men were pouring water to extinguish the flames; the stable-boy had ridden off to Cressford for the fire-engine. Nurse was like a distracted person. She had run back to the nurseries when she had got the children safely downstairs, and she had managed to get some of their clothes; but the nursery wing was now blazing fiercely. Purling came up to Nurse very soon.

"You had best take the children to the Dower House. This is no fit place for them. This old house will burn like tinder. It will be as much as we can do, to save the pictures and the plate. I doubt if the firemen will come in time."

So Nurse dressed the children with trembling fingers. Jane was almost in hysterics, and little use at all. Then Nurse hurried them down the avenue. She carried Bertie, and Freda and Daffy and Edmund followed her close behind. Bertie was crying a little, Freda almost enjoying it, and Daffy and Edmund absolutely pale with fright and very silent.

Nurse stopped at the lodge.

"If you weren't so crowded, Mrs. Lane," she said to the lodge-woman, "I would get you to take us in; but you've four children of your own, I know."

Mrs. Lane was wringing her hands in fright and excitement.

"My John is up at the Hall now. Oh, mercy on us, what an awful sight the flames are! I said to 'im when I saw the glare, 'That's the nurseries, and the children will be burnt in their beds.' However did it happen?"

But Nurse pushed on without a word.

As they came near the Dower House Freda spoke in a whisper to Edmund:

"Isn't this fun? What will Fibo and Dreamikins say when they see us come in the middle of the night?"

Edmund looked at her with scared eyes, then he said, "It's all Nurse's fault."

"What is? You don't mean the fire?"

He did not answer, and walked the rest of the way in silence.

It was barely eleven o'clock when they reached the Dower House. Fibo had not gone to bed. He had sent Daw to the Hall with a message to Nurse, so he was not a bit surprised to see her. Mrs. Daw and Carrie were bustling about, making up beds in the spare rooms. They soon had all four children in bed. Mrs. Daw brought them some hot milk to drink. But Dreamikins slept through it all.

Freda and Daffy soon fell asleep. Not so Edmund. He lay awake with wide-open, frightened eyes, listening to the fire-engine when it thundered past, and to the running steps and voices of the villagers, who were all roused from their sleep and eager to help up at the Hall.

When daylight came, he was at last asleep, worn out by his fears and remorse.

Directly Dreamikins was awake, and was told by Annette the events of the evening before, she ran into the room where Freda and Daffy were sleeping. They were in a big bed together.

"Oh," she cried, springing upon the bed in the greatest excitement, "why wasn't I woked? Did you really come in the middle of the night? Er might have woked me. I do hope he doesn't go back to heaven when I aren't looking at him! Do tell me all about it!"

Freda and Daffy were only half awake, but Dreamikins thumped their pillows, and almost dragged them out of bed.

"Do tell me! Were you nearly burnt to ashes? Did you jump out of the windows? Is your house all burnt up?"

Then she was told as much as her little friends knew. In the morning light, with Dreamikins' happy rosy face close to them, their misfortune did not seem so terrible as it did the night before.

They all went to the window to see if there was anything left of the Hall. All they could see was some smoke coming up through the trees; no part of the house was visible.

"Fancy!" said Freda. "If it's burnt up, all our toys and clothes and story-books will be gone. What shall we do?"

"We might live in a caravan in the park till it's built up again!" said Daffy joyously.

"Oh, Nurse will simply tear us back to London! I know she will," said Freda.

"No; you'll stay here. We'll squeeze in beautifully, and if there's no room for the H.D. she can go to London and leave you here."

Annette and Nurse both appeared now at the door. Nurse looked quite old and shaken. Poor Nurse! All night she had lain awake wondering if it had been her fault—whether there had been any matches half-lighted that she put in with the fireworks so hurriedly.

Annette took Dreamikins off to be dressed. Freda and Daffy eagerly asked Nurse for news.

"It's the nursery wing that is burnt. They stopped the fire before it got to the rest of the house, but the library below the nursery is very much damaged. They saved the pictures and some of the books, but a great many of them are destroyed."

"Oh, if it's only those old books!" said Freda. "Mums will never read them, nor shall we, so it doesn't matter. Nurse, what shall we do now? And is our toy cupboard burnt?"

"Be quiet now, and don't worry me with questions. I've a splitting headache, and what your mother will say I don't know. It's a mercy we weren't burnt in our beds!"

When Miss Fletcher arrived that morning, she found her little pupils almost too excited to do lessons. They wanted to go and look at the burnt house; but this was not allowed, and Nurse begged Miss Fletcher to keep them in the schoolroom. She asked if Bertie might be kept there too, as she was going up to the Hall at once. Miss Fletcher willingly agreed.

Edmund made himself scarce. He had been very quiet all breakfast-time, and had gone out to the stables to see Shylock directly afterwards. There he made friends with the lad who had succeeded Michael, by name Hal Brown. Hal expressed his opinion that "somebody like those good-for-nothing suffragettes had set the Hall on fire."

"And if they get cotched they'll be taken to prison," he said.

"Will they really?" asked Edmund, trembling.

Hal nodded.

"Our policeman and a lot from Cressford are going round now trying to get the rights of it, and find out the one who did it."

Edmund left the stable silently. He wandered out into the garden and round and round the paths. Even Grinder, following him patiently in hopes of a game, could not gain his attention. Fibo lay by his study window and saw him there. He tapped sharply on the window-pane and beckoned to him.

Edmund appeared at the study door a few minutes afterwards, quite expecting to find the room full of policemen.

Fibo called to him cheerfully.

"Come and amuse me," he said; "we're the two men in the house who have nothing to do. Neither of us are doing lessons just now, are we?"

Edmund tried to smile. He sat down on the edge of a chair by the fire and looked across at Fibo in an uncomfortable fashion.

And then Fibo suddenly held out his hand.

"Come close to me, old chap, and tell me all about it. Don't be afraid. Honour bright, I'll try to help you!"

There was magic in Fibo's look and smile.

With a deep-drawn sob Edmund scuttled over to the couch. Fibo put his arm round him, and then he laid his brown head against the kind shoulder, and began to sob as if his heart would break.

"I—I—shall have to go to prison," he sobbed, "because I—I did it."

"I guessed you did. Nurse's story seems rather confused. We won't think about prison. Just tell me exactly what you did. Be a man and own up."

Edmund told him, and Fibo listened silently.

"Didn't you know that lighted paper and matches would be likely to burn?" he asked, when Edmund had come to a stop.

"I only meant to burn the fireworks."

"But fireworks in a cupboard mean great danger."

"I didn't stop to think. I only wanted to frighten her. She boxed my ears! Will you have to give me up to the police?"

"I think you will have to tell your story to a policeman," said Fibo slowly. He rang his bell, and asked Daw to find Sergeant Ross who had come over from Cressford to make inquiries about the fire.

Edmund stood, white and trembling, by Fibo's side. Fibo patted him on the back in a comforting way.

"You've told the truth, little man; and you did not mean to burn the house down, did you? It will be a lesson for life. Now buck up and tell Sergeant Ross what you have told me."

In a very short time a constable was ushered into the room, and Fibo said:

"I want you to hear this young gentleman's account of the origin of the fire last night. He is very frightened and sorry, but I've told him that he must tell you himself about it."

Edmund clenched his fists, threw up his head, and fought bravely with his tears. Then he told the constable what he had done; and that good man shook his head.

"What a lot of mischief some of you young gentlemen do with your fireworks! Well, I'm glad to hear the rights of it. I'm thankful to say the greater part of the house is saved. I conclude, sir,—" here he turned to Fibo,—"I conclude, sir, that Mrs. Harrington has been communicated with?"

"We have sent a wire."

After a few more words, the constable left the room.

"Is he going to do anything to me?" asked poor Edmund.

"No, my boy. He sees you have been punished quite enough by the consequences of your mischief. But you'll have to tell Nurse. Better go over to the Hall now and find her, and get it over; and then come back to me. I shan't forsake you, you may be sure!"

Edmund gasped out:

"Must I go to Nurse? Won't you tell her for me?"

"No, I won't. For you must show your pluck, and be willing to own yourself the culprit. Cut along!"

Edmund left the room without a word. He seized his cap from the hall peg, and raced along the road, arriving at the Hall hot and breathless. It was some time before he could find Nurse. She and Purling were together in his pantry; she had found that there was literally nothing saved from the nurseries, and now she and Purling were talking together, discussing all that had passed. When she saw Edmund, she turned upon him angrily:

"And you're responsible for it all, Master Edmund. What are you doing here?"

"I've come to tell you that I did it," said Edmund, in quavering tones. "You made me angry, and I stuffed some lighted paper under the door to make the fireworks go off!"

Nurse gave an exclamation of horror.

"You wicked child! And here have I been blaming myself for what I never did! Now you'll just come to Captain Arnold, and tell him that it's you who've burnt us to the ground! And we'll tell the police, and it's to be hoped you'll get a thorough good thrashing!"

"I've told Captain Arnold and the police," said Edmund; "and I've said I'm sorry, and I can't say more!"

Then he ran away down the avenue as fast as he could, and hardly drew his breath till he was in Fibo's study again. He felt that Nurse was more formidable than any one else.