Saved By Fire.

Observer, Volume XVIII, Issue 1016, 18 June 1898, Page 10

Saved By Fire.

was a youngster of two-and-twenty at the time, reading law in the office of a prominent solicitor I had no f r i c n d a in town, so that it was . quite a pleasant change ior me when old Fogson called me into his office . one morning and in- ' formed me that he had business of a private and . pressing nature, which necessitated my travelling to --Broxton at once.

' I want yon to take this money to Mr Warren's,' he said, indicating a pile,ofrbank nofes which lay upon the table. ' Count it.' ■ , " I wet my finger and counted through the notes, which were of all values. ' How much ?' inquired the old man. • Thirteen hundred,' said I. ' Ju9t so,' he replied. ' From this moment you are responsible for it. Put the note 3in that wallet, and don't lose sight of them till you have handed them over to Mr Warren in person and taken a receipt for them. There's a train leaves at 12.20 which I want you to catch. 1 I went off blithely, wondering what new extravagance our erratic client had been guilty of that he should want the money in such haßte and in such a shape. I thrust the wallet into" my overcoat pocket — it was too large to go into any other — and, arriving at the station, took a ticket for Dayton, the nearest station to the residence of Squire Warren. We didn't travel very fast in those days, j and I was cramped and chilled with sitting by the time I reached my station. . I I expected to find a vehicle of some sort awaiting me, but was. disappoinied, and after standing and gazing around for a few seconds I followed the station-master as he was about to enter his office, and -asked him the way to Hazelton. 'Hazelton,' he repeated slowly ; 'it's a , good twelve miles from here.' ' Is it an easy road ?' j 'The road's easy enough,' was the reply. ' You take that road leading up the hill there for about two miles, till you come to an empty cottage. Go up the lane at the side of that, and you'll strike the high road. You: might, perhaps, get a trap at j the Cauliflower there, but if not, it's as straight as you can go after that.' I thanked him, and buttoning up my coat passed through the office, which was warm and cheerful with a huge fire, into the road beyond, and commenced my journey. I walked for hours across what I afterwards found to be a large stretch of moorland, and I was beginning to think of all the tales I had heard of travellers walking in a circle and returning to their starting point, when I saw in the distance a faint RghtMy spirits revived, and forgetting my fatigue I stepped out briskly towards it. As I got closer I saw that the light came through a dirty blind drawn across a Bmall window, and walking up to the door, which was just discernable, 1 rapped smartly upon it with my knuckles. The sound of voices inside stilled. ' Come in !' said somebody, gruffly. I raised the latch, and entering found myself in the rough bar of a wayside house A huge wood fire burned and crackled on the hearth, round which sat three swarthy-looking men and a woman. 4 Good evening,' said I. 'Evening, sir,' said the oldest-looking man of the three, whom I took to be the landlord, as he put down a weather-beaten gun he was examining. ' I want to go to Hazelton, said I, ' have you a trap of any kind I could have ?' ' I've not,' Baid the landlord. ' How far is it ?' I inquired. The landlord looked lazily at his companions. ' 'Bout eighteen miles, said one or them ' I've lost my way, then,' said I. Ive walked from Dayton station; I can't Eosubly get to Hazelton to-night. Can I aye a "bed and supper here ?' ' Of course you can,' said the woman ' Come up to the fire, sir.' ■ Her manner was very civil, but her appearance was far from alluring. She was tall and extremely stout, her lilac prmt apron being apparently tied around her waist by guesswork. Her grey hair was drawn carlessly into a tight and unseemly knot at the back of her head, and she leered at me amiably as she walked briskly forward with a chair The men moved their chairs back, and the landlady, planting mine fall in front of the fire, assisted me to remove my overcoat. I would cheerfully have dispensed with her assistance, but, fearful of arousing suspicions as to its contents, I raised no objections. •I'll take it up. to your room, said the landlady, throwing it across her arm.

• Oh, trouble ! I'll take it up when I go,' said I, unconcernedly. 11.I 1 . It's all right, I've got to go up there to see your bed,' she replied, and I heard her panting up the Btalrs. " When she was gone, I took stock of my, companions, and. the more I saw of them the less I liked them. . Both the cus : tomers were rough-looking, and neither, was' at any great pains to make himself agreeable. Supper finished, we drew up to the fire again, and I ordered glasses round as I sat" comfortably smoking. I sat until I had finished my pipe, and then asked for a candle, saying that my walk had made me very tired, and asking to . be called at an early hour in the morning, so that I could continue my journey. The landlady, taking a huge tin candlestick from the dresßer", lighted me up the narrow, naked stairs, and leading the way into a small bedroom, set the light on the painted washstand and withdrew after wishing me good-night My first glance was for my overcoat, which was nanging from a nail in the corner of the room, and to my great relief I found the notes intact I resolved not to be separated from them again, and taking them from the wallet, made them into small parcels and distributed them about my pockets. The room was damp and cheerless, the only furniture being the washstand before mentioned, a broken chair, and a clammylooking bed. There was no lock to the door, and no curtain to the window, and after a careful inspection, I blew out the candle, and lay down in the bed in my clothes. I lay for some time half dozing in chill discomfort, until. I was aroused by the sounds of shutting up downstairs. Doors were shut and bolted, and I waited lazily to hear the sound of my host's feet coming upstairs to bed, for I wanted to order a stiff glass of brandy and water as a protection against the damp, which seemed to be eating into my bones, but they were so long in coming that I lost patience, and quitting my bed felt my way downstairs in my stocking feet. A light was still burning in the taproom, j and I was about to enter, when, through a small hole in the red curtain, which was drawn across the glass of the door, I saw, to my surprise, that the other customers j were still there. All three men were sit- j ting by the fire almost as I had left them, conversing in low tonep, and I had ju3t laid my hand upon the door, which stood slightly ajar, when they spun coins in the air and bent their heads eagerly forward with the coins covered. At the same moment the huge landlady approached, and loomed over them with a face like a dirty white mask. Are you going to be all night ?' she asked, in a low, tremulous voice The men watched each other suspiciously, and uncovered the coins 1 It's you, Jim,' said the landlord, in a voice of great relief. 1 Mind this.' replied Jim in a shaking voice, ' we're all in it ; one's as bad as the other.' There was silence. 'D'ye hear?' bisEed Jim, fiercely. 'Wr all in it, I say 1 I'm doing the dirty work, that's all.' 'Of course,' said the landlord, soothingly. ' Yon shall have my knife to do it with.' 1 He's dropped here all unknown, said the landlady, Bpeaking rapidly. ' It's right out of his way for Hazelton. Nobody saw him or spoke to him. There's more than £1,500.' 'If he wakes and shows fight you ye all got to lend a hand,' said the man again. Mind that.' 'Of course, we will,' said the landlady. ' Give him a little while longer. I'll go up and see whether he is asleep.' i She moved towards the door, and, with my heart beating wildly, I moved stealthily from it, and noiselessly darting up the stairs gained my room, and flung myself down on the bed, with my ears strained , to the utmost Things were so strange and quiet that I thought the terrible woman had changed her mind; when L heard a faint breathing outside my door, and with a view of getting as much time as possible I cleared my throat slightly and turned over in the creaking bed. The breathing stopped, and I heard a slight rustle pass downstairs. I waited a minute, and then got off the bed, and looked about for some weapon of defence. There was not even a poker, and the flimsy furniture put all ideas of barricading the door out of the question. My sole weapon was a tiny pearl-handled At the risk of being detected by anybody lurking at the foot of the stairs, I crossed the landing and entered the room opposite in quest of a poker. The bedroom was as dreary as my own, with a. huge four post bedstead in the centre, but a large lamp was' burning, presumably to warm the room. Fire-irons there were none. As I stood there, shivering with cold and ear, one desperate means of escape occur ed

to me. I crossed over to the* lamp, and with trembling, 'fingers began to unscrew the top. Twice it squeaked. Another turn and the. burning wick, protected by the chimney; was loose in my liand, and taking up the reservoir I poured the oil into, the. centre of the bed.. Then I removed the^ chimney, and throwing the lighted wick on a dry part of the bed softly,'closed the door and hastily retreated to my own room. I heard the saturated bedding catch with a muffled roar, and from my window saw a reflection in the darkness outside. Still -all quiet below. I went to my door; thin streaks of smoke were pouring out from the cracks of the door opposite on the landing, and beneath it I could see a red line. Then I heard a startled cry from downstairs, and - with no need to feign agitation I raised the shout of — 'Fire! Fire!' It was answered from below, and the landlord and his brother ruffians came rushing up the stairs. With a powerful kick the landlord burst the door open, and a dense volume of smoke and flames came pouring out on to the landing. There was no facing it- I rushed downstairs; the lamb with the wolves. ' Get some waterl' I shouted. ' Where's the water ?' They were all bewildered, but the landlord caught . up a pail, and shooting back the bolt rushed out into, the yard to the pump. He came back with it half full, but by this time the landing had begun to catch. The. smoke filled the house, and we retreated to the yard as the flames burst from the window. Then the landlady clutched her husband fiercely by the shoulder and, glaring at me, whispered something in his ear. That her words boded no good to me I knew, and," trembling with excitement, I played my last card. ' Help !' I cried, wildly ; ' fetch my overcoat. A hundred pounds to the man who gets it.' ■ I ran towards the house, followed by them all, and, at a push from the landlady, Jem dashed up the stairs and disappeared in the smoke. I gave myself up for lost, but the next minute he was back again, black and scorched— and empty-handed. I felt safe then, and safer still when a sturdy farmer came galloping up and drew rein in the yard. ,He was joined in a short time by others, and we stood in a knot watching the blazing inn. One by one the spirit kegs burst and fed the roaring flames^ and in a marvellously short space of time all that was left of the inn was a smoking, bhckened ruin. The farmer took me in for the night, but I kept my own counsel, for arson is an ugly word, and I had no witnesses to bear testimony to my extremity. I rode over to Hazelton in the morning, and handed over the money safely, returning to town in the afternoon. I did not tell Fogson plainly what I had done, "as I did not wish to make him a party to it, but I have always thought the inkling I allowed him to have was directly responsible for my rapid rise in his good books and the business of the firm.

.fie: was a pensive - looking individual, and no. attention was paid to him as he took his seat in the Ponßonby tram at the foot of Wellesley -street. But he gained the rapt. attention of every man and woman in that crowded tram as. he bent over to a friend in. the opposite corner and said in a quiet but distinct voice, ' I heard of a man to-day who buried a wife and child in the morning and went out for a ride on his bicycle in the afternoon.' ' Good gracious,' replied the Mend in suppressed indignation; 'why, he must be a brute.' ' No, 1 remarked the pensive man ; ' only an undertaker,' It .was hiß little joke, and he hugely enjoyed it. But the friend with the suppressed indignation didn't."

A young man who occupies a seat on a long stool in a certain mercantile office in town ran short of cash over the Ellerslie races the other day, and felt badly in need of a> remittance from home. And in writing to the governor up-country for a remittance, he thought he was sure to melt the paternal heart to tenderness" by enclosing his photograph; done in Fred Edwards's very best style. But the old man's reply proved that his shot had completely miased fire. ' You can't be so very hard up -to be living among them marble vases, and statues, and pots of flowers, and handsome furniture, each as your photograph shows. Try a less expensive boarding-house.' And no money was forthcoming. He says now that the nest time he is ' taken ' he'll take precious good care to have no photographic fixings introduced into the picture. They produce erroneous impressions in" the country.

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