to save them; but thence
the fire, just as the water in the nearest pond was drying up, caught a
hold on the dairy and the old thatched part of the farmhouse.
Bellowings were heard from the captives that they would be burnt alive,
and some one, it was never known who, let them out, for no sign of them
appeared when all was over, though their prison was untouched by the
fire. For even at that moment the Poppleby fire-engine galloped up the
road, and was hailed with shouts of joy. It had a hose long enough to
reach down to the brook in the meadow, and the hissing bursts of water
poured down did at last check the flames before they had done much harm
to the more modern portion of the house, though all the furniture was
lying tumbled about in heaps on the lawn--Mary's piano, with the baby's
cradle full of crockery on the top of it, and Edmund's writing desk in
the middle of a washing stand all upside down.

The first thing Edmund did when the smoke wreaths alone were lingering
about, was to send his groom down to the cellar, with a jug in his hand,
to bring up some beer, which he proceeded to hand in the best
breakfast-cups to all and sundry of the helpers, including Sir Harry
Hartman, Sophy helping in the distribution with all her might.

"Miss Carbonel, I think?" said Sir Harry, courteously, as she gave him
the cup. "Were you the garrison?"

Sophy laughed. "Yes, sir, except old Pucklechurch and his wife."

"Then I may congratulate you on being the bravest woman in Uphill," said
the old gentleman, raising his hat.

It was getting dark, and they had to consider what was next to be done.
Captain Carbonel was anxious about his wife and children, and Sir Harry
was urging him to bring them to his house, while Mr Grantley, from
Poppleby, who had come up on the alarm, urged the same upon him. It
ended in a guard being told off, consisting of Cox, the constable of
Uphill, who had emerged from no one knew where, the Downhill constable,
and the shepherd, with one of the yeomen, who were to be entertained by
Pucklechurch and the cook, and prevent any mischief being done to the
scattered furniture before morning. The Pucklechurches and Mrs Mole,
with Barton, were doing their best to bring in and attend to the live
stock, all of which had been saved by Pucklechurch's care.

Then they rode off together, Sophy and the housemaid having already
started across the fields, bearing whatever necessary baggage they could
collect or