Then turning toward the as yet unknown invader, she cried, piteously: “Oh, spare my life! Take everything; I will give you anything you ask, only spare my life.”
She evidently thought herself addressing a ruthless robber.
Dennis retreated toward the door the moment she awakened; and this somewhat reassured her.
In the firm, quiet tone that always calms excitement he replied, “I only ask you to give me your confidence, Miss Ludolph, and to join with me, Dennis Fleet, in my effort to save your life.”
“Dennis Fleet! Dennis Fleet! save my life! Oh, ye gods, what does it all mean?” and she passed her hand in bewilderment across her brow, as if to brush away the wild fancies of a dream.
“Miss Ludolph, as you love your life arouse yourself and escape! The city is burning!”
“I don’t believe it!” she cried, in an agony of terror and anger. “Leave the room! How dare you! You are not Dennis Fleet; he is a white man, and you are black! You are an impostor! Leave quick, or my father will come and take your life! Father! father!”
Dennis without a word stepped to the window, tore aside the curtain, threw open the shutters, and the fire filled the room with the glare of noonday. At that moment an explosion occurred which shook the very earth. Everything rattled, and a beautiful porcelain vase fell crashing to the floor.
Christine shrieked and covered her face with her hands.
Dennis approached the bedside, and said in a gentle, firm tone that she knew to be his: “Miss Ludolph, I am Mr. Fleet. My face is blackened through smoke and dust, as is everyone’s out in the streets tonight. You know something of me, and I think you know nothing dishonorable. Can you not trust me? Indeed you must; your life depends upon it!”
“Oh, pardon me, Mr. Fleet!” she cried, eagerly. “I am not worthy of this, but now that I know you, I do trust you from the depth of my soul!”
“Prove it then by doing just as I bid you,” he replied, in a voice so firm and prompt that it seemed almost stern. Retreating to the door, he continued: “I give you just five minutes in which to make your toilet and gather a light bundle of your choicest valuables. Dress in woollen throughout, and dress warmly. I will see that the servants are aroused. Your father is on the south side, and cannot reach you. You must trust in God and what I can do for you.”
“I must trust to you alone,” she said. “Please send my maid to me.”
Mr. Ludolph had sipped his wine during the evening, and his servants had sipped, in no dainty way, something stronger, and therefore had not awakened readily. But the uproar in the streets had aroused them, and Dennis found them scuttling down the upper stairs in a half-clad state, each bearing a large bundle, which had been made up without regard to meum and tuum.
“Och, murther! is the world burning up?” cried the cook.
“Be still, ye howlin’ fool,” said the cool and travelled maid. “It’s only von big fire!”
“Go to your mistress and help her, quick!” cried Dennis.
“Go to my meestress! I go to de street and save my life.”
“Oh, Janette!” cried Christine. “Come and help me!”
“I am meeserable zat I cannot. I must bid mademoiselle quick adieu,” said the heartless creature, still keeping up the veneer of French politeness.
Dennis looked through the upper rooms and was satisfied that they were empty. Suddenly a piercing shriek from Christine sent him flying to her room. As he ran he heard her cry, “Oh, Mr. Fleet! come! help!”
To go back a little (for on that awful night events marched as rapidly as the flames, and the experience of years was crowded into hours, and that of hours into moments), Christine had sought as best she could to obey Dennis’s directions, but she was sadly helpless, having been trained to a foolish dependence on her maid. She had accomplished but little when she heard a heavy step in the room. Looking up, she saw a strange man regarding her with an evil eye.
“What do you want?” she faltered.
“You, for one thing, and all you have got, for another,” was the brutal reply.
“Leave this room!” she cried, in a voice she vainly tried to render firm.
“Not just yet,” he answered, with a satanic grin. She sought to escape by him with the loud cry that Dennis heard, but the ruffian planted his big grimy hand in the delicate frill of her night-robe where it clasped her throat, and with a coarse laugh said: “Not so fast, my dainty!”
Trembling and half fainting (for she had no physical courage), she cried for Dennis, and never did knightly heart respond with more brave and loving throb to the cry of helpless woman than his. He came with almost the impetus of a thunderbolt, and the man, startled, looked around, and catching a glimpse of Dennis’s blazing eyes, dropped his hold on Christine, and shrank and cowered from the blow he could not avert. Before his hand could instinctively reach the pistol it sought, there was a thud, and he fell like a log to the floor. Then, springing upon him, Dennis took away his weapons, and, seizing him by the collar of his coat, dragged him backward downstairs and thrust him into the street. Pointing his own pistol at him, he said, “If you trouble us again, I will shoot you like a dog!”
The villain slunk off, and finding some kindred spirits sacking a liquor-store not far off, he joined the orgy, seeking to drown his rage in rum, and he succeeded so effectually that he lay in the gutter soon after. The escaping multitude trampled over him, and soon the fire blotted out his miserable existence, as it did that of so many who rendered themselves powerless by
