Marm Lisa [50]
the parting of the crowd, however, and as she made her way she heard, as in a waking dream, disjointed sentences that had no meaning at first, but being pieced together grew finally into an awful whole.
'Why didn't the factory girls bring 'em out? Didn't know they was there?'
'Say, one of 'em was saved, warn't it?'
'Which one of 'em did she get down before the roof caught?'
'No, 'tain't no such thing; the manager's across the bay; she gave the alarm herself.'
'She didn't know they was in there; I bet yer they'd run and hid, and she was hunting 'em when she seen the smoke.'
'Yes, she did; she dropped the girl twin out of the second-story window into Abe Isaac's arms, but she didn't know the boy was in the building till just now, and they can't hardly hold her.'
'She's foolish, anyhow, ain't she?'
Mary staggered beyond Rhoda to the front of the crowd.
'Let me under the rope!' she cried, with a mother's very wail in her tone--'let me under the rope, for God's sake! They're my children!'
At this moment she heard a stentorian voice call to some one, 'Wait a minute till the firemen get here, and they'll go for him! Come back, girl, d-n you! you shan't go!'
'Wait? No! NOT wait!' cried Lisa, tearing herself dexterously from the policeman's clutches, and dashing like a whirlwind up the tottering stairway before any one else could gather presence of mind to seize and detain her.
Pacific was safe on the pavement, but she had only a moment before been flung from those flaming windows, and her terrified shrieks rent the air. The crowd gave a long-drawn groan, and mothers turned their eyes away and shivered. Nobody followed Marm Lisa up that flaming path of death and duty: it was no use flinging a good life after a worthless one.
'Fool! crazy fool!' people ejaculated, with tears of reverence in their eyes.
'Darling, splendid fool!' cried Mary. 'Fool worth all the wise ones among us!'
'He that loseth his life for My sake shall find it!' said a pious Methodist cobbler with a patched boot under his arm.
In the eternity of waiting that was numbered really but in seconds, a burly policeman beckoned four men and gave them a big old-fashioned counterpane that some one had offered, telling them to stand ready for whatever might happen.
'Come closer, boys,' said one of them, wetting his hat in a tub of water; 'if we take a little scorchin' doin' this now, we may git it cooler in the next world!'
'Amen! Trust the Lord!' said the cobbler; and just then Marm Lisa appeared at one of the top windows with a child in her arms. No one else could have recognised Atlantic in the smoke, but Rhoda and Mary knew the round cropped head and the familiar blue gingham apron.
Lisa stood in the empty window-frame, a trembling figure on a background of flame. Her post was not at the moment in absolute danger. There was hope yet, though to the onlookers there seemed none.
'Throw him!' 'Drop him!' 'Le' go of him!' shouted the crowd.
'Hold your jaws, and let me do the talking!' roared the policeman. 'Stop your noise, if you don't want two dead children on your consciences! Keep back, you brutes, keep back o' the rope, or I'll club you!'
It was not so much the officer's threats as simple, honest awe that caused a sudden hush to fall. There were whisperings, sighs, tears, murmurings, but all so subdued that it seemed like silence in the midst of the fierce crackling of the flames.
'Drop him! We'll ketch him in the quilt!' called the policeman, standing as near as he dared.
Lisa looked shudderingly at the desperate means of salvation so far below, and, turning her face away as much as she could, unclasped her arms despairingly, and Atlantic came swooping down from their shelter, down, down into the counterpane; stunned, stifled, choked by smoke, but uninjured, as Lisa knew by the cheers that greeted his safe descent.
A tongue of fire curled round the corner of the building and ran up to the roof towards another that was licking its way along the top of the window.
'Jump now
'Why didn't the factory girls bring 'em out? Didn't know they was there?'
'Say, one of 'em was saved, warn't it?'
'Which one of 'em did she get down before the roof caught?'
'No, 'tain't no such thing; the manager's across the bay; she gave the alarm herself.'
'She didn't know they was in there; I bet yer they'd run and hid, and she was hunting 'em when she seen the smoke.'
'Yes, she did; she dropped the girl twin out of the second-story window into Abe Isaac's arms, but she didn't know the boy was in the building till just now, and they can't hardly hold her.'
'She's foolish, anyhow, ain't she?'
Mary staggered beyond Rhoda to the front of the crowd.
'Let me under the rope!' she cried, with a mother's very wail in her tone--'let me under the rope, for God's sake! They're my children!'
At this moment she heard a stentorian voice call to some one, 'Wait a minute till the firemen get here, and they'll go for him! Come back, girl, d-n you! you shan't go!'
'Wait? No! NOT wait!' cried Lisa, tearing herself dexterously from the policeman's clutches, and dashing like a whirlwind up the tottering stairway before any one else could gather presence of mind to seize and detain her.
Pacific was safe on the pavement, but she had only a moment before been flung from those flaming windows, and her terrified shrieks rent the air. The crowd gave a long-drawn groan, and mothers turned their eyes away and shivered. Nobody followed Marm Lisa up that flaming path of death and duty: it was no use flinging a good life after a worthless one.
'Fool! crazy fool!' people ejaculated, with tears of reverence in their eyes.
'Darling, splendid fool!' cried Mary. 'Fool worth all the wise ones among us!'
'He that loseth his life for My sake shall find it!' said a pious Methodist cobbler with a patched boot under his arm.
In the eternity of waiting that was numbered really but in seconds, a burly policeman beckoned four men and gave them a big old-fashioned counterpane that some one had offered, telling them to stand ready for whatever might happen.
'Come closer, boys,' said one of them, wetting his hat in a tub of water; 'if we take a little scorchin' doin' this now, we may git it cooler in the next world!'
'Amen! Trust the Lord!' said the cobbler; and just then Marm Lisa appeared at one of the top windows with a child in her arms. No one else could have recognised Atlantic in the smoke, but Rhoda and Mary knew the round cropped head and the familiar blue gingham apron.
Lisa stood in the empty window-frame, a trembling figure on a background of flame. Her post was not at the moment in absolute danger. There was hope yet, though to the onlookers there seemed none.
'Throw him!' 'Drop him!' 'Le' go of him!' shouted the crowd.
'Hold your jaws, and let me do the talking!' roared the policeman. 'Stop your noise, if you don't want two dead children on your consciences! Keep back, you brutes, keep back o' the rope, or I'll club you!'
It was not so much the officer's threats as simple, honest awe that caused a sudden hush to fall. There were whisperings, sighs, tears, murmurings, but all so subdued that it seemed like silence in the midst of the fierce crackling of the flames.
'Drop him! We'll ketch him in the quilt!' called the policeman, standing as near as he dared.
Lisa looked shudderingly at the desperate means of salvation so far below, and, turning her face away as much as she could, unclasped her arms despairingly, and Atlantic came swooping down from their shelter, down, down into the counterpane; stunned, stifled, choked by smoke, but uninjured, as Lisa knew by the cheers that greeted his safe descent.
A tongue of fire curled round the corner of the building and ran up to the roof towards another that was licking its way along the top of the window.
'Jump now