the fire, and so smothers it down till the ingines come up. Also keep
all windows shut. If the smoke is like to choke ye, git yer nose as
near the ground as possible, an' go along on yer hands and knees. A bit
o' flannel or a worsted sock held over yer mouth an' nose, will help you
to bear it better.

"If ye can't escape by the street-door, or the trap in the roof, then
get into a front room, where you will be more easy to be got at wid
ladders or fire-escapes, an' see that _every mimber o' the household_ is
there. Many a wan has bin forgotten in the hurry-skurry of a fire, and
left asleep in bed, ignorant o' the danger till too late; when a cool
head might have missed 'em, and wakened 'em in time. Whatever ye do,
ma'am--keep cool."

The probability of poor Mrs Denman keeping cool in such circumstances
was uncommonly small; for she was at that moment hot all over, and her
face flushed at the mere recital of such horrors!

Joe then went on to state, that the very last thing she should do was to
jump from a window (a somewhat unnecessary piece of advice, poor Miss
Denman thought), and that, when she was compelled to take such a step,
she should first of all pitch over all the blankets and bedding she
could lay hold of to make her fall easy. He wound up with an emphatic
reiteration of the assurance that her only chance lay in "keeping cool."

That night, poor Mrs Denman, in a condition of mind that is utterly
indescribable, because inconceivable, went through the whole of the
dreadful processes which Joe had described; and did it, too, with
miraculous presence of mind and energy--in her dreams.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

DARK PLOTS ARE HATCHED.

Gorman was one of those peculiar characters who, in personal appearance,
are totally devoid of peculiarity. He was a middle-sized, thick-set,
commonplace, grave, quiet man; very powerful--but not apparently so; one
whom it was impossible to "find out" unless he chose to let himself be
found out. Above all, he was a reserved man.

Everybody knew well enough, at least among his intimates, that he was
named Gorman; but not one of the number knew what his Christian name
was. A few were aware that he signed himself "D. Gorman"; but whether
the "D" represented David, dastard, drunkard, or demon, was a matter of
pure speculation to all, a few of his female acquaintance excepted (for
he had no friends), who asserted roundly that it represented them all,
and some were even w