ng? It
was not dinner-time yet. Would nobody stop her? It would make Mabel's
headache worse. In her dream, Aldred rushed downstairs, and tried to
hold Mademoiselle's arm; but the clanging grew louder and louder, and
with a start she awoke and sat up in her bed, half-awake.

The noise was actual fact. Somebody downstairs was hammering the gong,
with frantic, jarring strokes; while the big bell that rang for classes
was clanging lustily. There was a curious smell in the air, very
different from the scent of the roses outside; and there was also a
ruddy light, surely neither that of the moon nor of the rising sun.
Before Aldred had time to do more than rub her eyes, hurried footsteps
resounded along the passage, her door was flung open, and a voice cried:
"Fire! Come at once!"

The girls at Birkwood had been trained in fire drill, and Aldred knew
immediately what she must do. Her heart was beating quickly, and her
hands were trembling, but she flung on her dressing-gown, slipped her
feet into her slippers, seized a pocket-handkerchief and dipped it in
the bedroom jug (all the work of three seconds), and dashed without
further delay down the stairs.

The landing and hall were filled with dense clouds of choking smoke. To
get to the front door was like passing through the mouth of a cannon,
and Aldred felt almost suffocated before she reached the fresh air. In
the garden several agitated teachers were trying to review an even more
panic-stricken crowd of girls and servants. Mademoiselle was sobbing
hysterically, and though all the teachers were striving each to number
her own flock, they kept getting in one another's way, and missing count
and having to begin again. Nobody seemed responsible, or in command. The
gardener rushed about distractedly with buckets of water, assuring
everyone that he had sent for the fire brigade from Chetbourne. The
servants shrieked and wailed, and neighbours who came running from
various farms and cottages on the downs only added to the general noise
and confusion.

From one of the windows of the upper story flames were bursting,
throwing a red glare over the garden. By this livid light Aldred pushed
her way among the excited, jostling girls, scanning each face, and
asking one constantly reiterated question: "Where's Mabel?"

Nobody knew. Nobody seemed to have noticed, in the general confusion,
that she was not with them.

"Where's Mabel?" Aldred's voice was frantic with alarm.

"Isn't