the corner, and approached.

"Why, Giles Scott!" exclaimed the knight, holding out his hand, which
Giles shook respectfully, "you seem to be very far away from your beat
to-night."

"No, sir, not very far, for this is my beat, now. I have exchanged into
the city, for reasons that I need not mention."

At this point a belated and half-tipsy man passed with his donkey-cart
full of unsold vegetables and rubbish.

"Hallo! you big blue-coat-boy," he cried politely to Giles, "wot d'ye
call _that_?"

Giles had caught sight of "_that_" at the same moment, and darted across
the street.

"Why, it's fire!" he shouted. "Run, young fellow, you know the
fire-station!"

"_I_ know it," shouted the donkey-man, sobered in an instant, as he
jumped off his cart, left it standing, dashed round the corner, and
disappeared, while Number 666 beat a thundering tattoo on Samuel
Twitter's front door.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THINGS BECOME TOO HOT FOR THE TWITTER FAMILY.

Before the thunder of Giles Scott's first rap had ceased, a pane of
glass in one of the lower windows burst, and out came dense volumes of
smoke, with a red tongue or two piercing them here and there, showing
that the fire had been smouldering long, and had got well alight.

It was followed by an appalling shriek from Mrs Frog, who rushed
forward shouting, "Oh! baby! baby!"

"Hold her, sir," said Giles to young Welland, who sprang forward at the
same moment.

Welland was aware of the immense value of prompt obedience, and saw that
Giles was well fitted to command. He seized Mrs Frog and held her
fast, while Giles, knowing that there was no time to stand on ceremony,
stepped a few paces back, ran at the door with all his might, and
applied his foot with his great weight and momentum to it. As the oak
is shattered by the thunderbolt, so was Samuel Twitter's door by the
foot of Number 666. But the bold constable was met by a volume of black
smoke which was too much even for him. It drove him back half
suffocated, while, at the same time, it drove the domestic out of the
house into his arms. She had rushed from the lower regions just in time
to escape death.

A single minute had not yet elapsed, and only half-a-dozen persons had
assembled, with two or three policemen, who instantly sought to obtain
an entrance by a back door.

"Hold her, Sir Richard," said Welland, handing the struggling Mrs Frog
over. The knight accepted the charge, while Welland ran to