ated chief, who informed them that the only way to save the
wheat was to save the building. Crailey Gray, one of the berated axemen,
remained by the shattered door after the others had gone, and, struck by
a sudden thought, set his hand upon the iron latch and opened the door
by this simple process. It was not locked. Crailey leaned against the
casement and laughed with his whole soul and body.

Meanwhile, by dint of shouting in men's ears when near them, through
the trumpet when distant, tearing axes from their hands, imperiously
gesticulating to subordinate commanders, and lingering in no one spot
for more than a second, Mr. Vanrevel reduced his forces to a semblance
of order in a remarkably short time, considering the confusion into
which they had fallen.

The space between the burning warehouse and that next it was not more
than fifty feet in width, but fifty feet so hot no one took thought
of entering there; an area as discomfiting in appearance as it was
beautiful with the thick rain of sparks and firebrands that fell upon
it. But the chief had decided that this space must be occupied, and
more: must be held, since it was the only point of defence for the
second warehouse. The roof of this building would burn, which would mean
the destruction of the warehouse, unless it could be mounted, because
the streams of water could not play upon it from the ground, nor, from
the ladders, do much more than wet the projecting eaves. It was a gable
roof, the eaves twenty feet lower on the south side than on the north,
where the ladders could not hope to reach them. Vanrevel swung his line
of bucketeers round to throw water, not upon the flames, but upon the
ladder-men.

Miss Carewe stood in the crowd upon the opposite side of the broad
street. Even there her cheeks were uncomfortably hot, and sometimes she
had to brush a spark from her shoulder, though she was too much excited
to mind this. She was watching the beautiful fiery furnace between the
north wall of the burning warehouse and the south wall of its neighbor,
the fifty feet brilliant and misty with vaporous rose-color, dotted
with the myriad red stars, her eyes shining with the reflection of their
fierce beauty. She saw how the vapors moved there, like men walking in
fire, and she was vaguely recalling Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego,
when, over the silhouetted heads of the crowd before her, a long black
ladder rose, wobbled, tilted crazily, then lamely advanced and