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She started down the boardwalk. She slipped up the alley a street beyond her own. She would watch the fire from the opposite side of the street. If she kept to the shadows between the houses, she would not be seen.

A crowd had gathered. Some were neighbors, holding buckets. Others had come to watch. The street was crowded with vehicles: the steam engine, with its three gray horses; the fire chief’s buggy; the ladder truck; the hose carts. The long ladder truck blocked her view of the house, but she could see the flames rising to the second-floor windows. Judith’s room, thought Maud, and spared a pang of pity for Judith. She edged forward, careful to keep in the shade of a sycamore tree.

No one noticed her. Night was falling, and the fire drew every eye. The firemen rushed back and forth like actors in a play. The firelight played on the wet street, which seemed to be strewn with snakes; the flames hissed and steamed, brilliant against a background of dingy smoke. Maud tried to catch a glimpse of someone she knew. She almost jumped when a voice spoke on the other side of the tree.

“Anybody in there?” A boy in knickerbockers jerked his thumb toward the blaze.

Another boy, somewhat older, answered him. “Nobody.” He sounded disappointed. “It’s just old ladies that live there, and they all got out. One of ’em caught her skirt on fire. They said she fainted, but that’s all.”

“See that fellow there?” The younger boy pointed to one of the firemen. “That’s Mr. Dowell from the pharmacy. He’s one of the volunteers. He sold me an egg cream yesterday.”

The other boy was unimpressed. “It’s not much of a fire,” he said gloomily. “All that rain th’s’afternoon.” He took a step forward. “What’s that?”

Maud heard the cry. She recognized it — it was Muffet’s voice. The younger boy said, “What in thunder —?”

“Somebody trying to get in.” The older boy was on his tiptoes. “One of the women — trying to get into the house. She must be crazy.” There was a murmur from the crowd. “One of the firemen’s caught her. There, he’s got her.”

“Mr. Dowell says that’s stupid. He says if you get out, you stay out. It’s different for the firefighters, because they know, but ordinary people — well, Mr. Dowell told me about this old maid who went back in the house to save her cat. The roof fell in and crushed her skull. Killed her like that.” He smacked his palms together. “Just plain foolishness.”

“I’d go in for a dog, but not a cat,” remarked the other.

Maud cursed them with a look of hatred and disdain. What did they know about fires? They’d leave their own mothers to burn, probably. She made a wide circle around them, pushing to the front of the crowd.

Muffet sagged in the arms of the fireman. The fireman turned his head from side to side, as if he were searching for someone to take the burden off his hands. A tall woman hurried toward him. Maud saw Mrs. Lambert gesticulate, indicating a point somewhere down the street. The fireman heaved the unconscious woman onto one shoulder and followed Mrs. Lambert to her carriage.

Maud set one foot ahead of the other. She imagined herself sprinting forward, ordering the fireman to let her go with Muffet. Then she imagined Mrs. Lambert’s surprise, and Hyacinth . . . Where was Hyacinth? She supposed they were all together — Mrs. Lambert and Hyacinth and Judith. Mrs. Lambert would take them back to her hotel. . . . Even as Maud pondered what to do next, the carriage began to move. Maud’s mouth fell open. They were leaving her.

Maud spun in her tracks. She sped from the crowd, regaining the cover of the alley. Once in the alley, she increased speed, trying to outrace the demons in her head. She no longer cared what happened to the house. Let it burn. She ran until she crossed the boardwalk and stumbled down to the shore.

The moon was rising. It seemed to Maud that she had never seen so large a moon. A scrap of shining cloud crossed it and turned to smoke. The moon emerged, whiter than the cloud, flawless in its roundness, beautiful. Maud raised her face to the