Not that they were quite
true, for Balmoral was still burning furiously; but they soon would be.

Suddenly Naomi made a terrible suggestion. 'Miss Sarah, suppose anybody
is in the house?' she cried.

Sarah turned on her quite angrily. 'Who should there be in the house? Of
course there's no one in it. The fire began at the top, and it's not
likely any one would stay up there to be burnt,' she cried, for this
thought had never struck her; she had taken it for granted that the
servants would have escaped at once. After the first fright she added
more calmly, 'Of course they are safe. Balmoral is only three stories
high, and the top story is only attics and storerooms and servants'
bedrooms, and they are not likely to be up there at this time of the day.
But, pray, don't go suggesting horrors of that kind to mother, or you
will make her quite ill.'

'I'm sorry if I upset you, and I know you've a feeling heart, though you
don't care about the house burning, so I'll say no more and hope for the
best,' said Naomi.

Sarah felt as if she could shake her for her determined pessimism.
However, she said nothing, but stood and watched the flames in silence
till they seemed to be dying down a little, and then she reluctantly
turned from the absorbing sight, and went downstairs to give her mother
the news.

'I think they've got the flames under, mother,' she said; but Mrs Clay
took little notice. 'Mother, don't you hear? They've got the flames under
at last.'

'Yes, my dear, I 'ear, an' I'm glad of it; but it's your father I'm
thinkin' about. I do 'ope an' pray 'e's safe,' she replied.

'Why shouldn't he be? The mills are all right,' said Sarah.

'Yes; but I don't know if 'e's there. I keep ringin' 'im up, an' there's
no answer, so 'e's not in the mills, for they always call 'im for the
telephone.'

'The old hands would; but, you see, everything is different now. Let me
try,' observed Sarah, taking up the receiver, and ringing, at intervals,
for some minutes. 'They are all looking at the fire from the lookout,'
she remarked at length, as she put the receiver down.

Mrs Clay shook her head. 'It isn't like your father to stand an' watch
'is property burn; 'e'll be up an' doin' somew'ere,' she declared.

'Would you like me to go and see if he is still there?' suggested Sarah.
Not that she supposed for a minute that her mother would allow her to go,
for she objected to her walking through Ousebank on ordinary occasions
when