id, who was not a very brave dog in moments
of crisis, and yet liked to appear busy and helpful. It was to the
ferryman's telephone that they returned. Sarah Brown knew that the fire
was a magic fire, and that an appeal to the L.C.C. Fire Brigade would
only bring defeat and unnecessary bewilderment upon a deserving
organisation.

Sarah Brown rang up Richard's office, and Richard, who had a heroic and
almost cinematic gift for being on hand at the right moments, answered
her himself.

"Come at once," said Sarah Brown. "The House of Living Alone is on fire.
Someone has been tampering with the magic drawer."

"Oh deah, deah," said Richard. "And this is such a busy night at the
office too. Do you think it is really important? It is my house, you
know."

"Well, I don't see what is to prevent Mitten Island from being burnt to
the water's edge. In fact I don't see why, being a magic fire, it should
stop at the water's edge. Not to mention that the Mayor----"

"Very well, I'll come," said Richard.

As she stepped out of the door he arrived.

"I came by flash of lightning," he explained, smoothing his hair and
readjusting his Bill Sykes service cap, in the manner of one who has
moved swiftly. "The lightning service is getting very bad. I was held up
for quite three-quarters of a second over Whitehall. There was some
wireless war-news coming in, and the lightning had to let it pass. Now,
what's all this fuss about, Sarah Brown?"

There was a crowd of delirious Mitten Islanders round the House of
Living Alone. While Sarah Brown and Richard were about fifty yards away,
a many-forked and enormous white flame suddenly wrapped the house about,
like a hand clutching and crushing it.

"The faggots round the stake are lighted," said Richard. "But the witch
has fled."

It seemed that the stars were devoured by the flame, so far did it
outshine them. The flame shrank in upon itself and collapsed. There was
no more House of Living Alone.

"Oh, Richard," said Sarah Brown. "Your mother and Miss Ford and----"

"Was mother in there?" asked Richard placidly. "Wonders will never
cease. Well, well, it is fortunate that no magic of any sort could ever
touch mother."

And indeed, as they pushed through the crowd, they saw all the recent
occupants of the Shop arguing at the front gate.

"I didn't blow it," Mr. Tovey was saying in an aggrieved voice. "I was
singing, not blowing."

"Well, all I know is that while you were on that hi