He jumped up and ran into the hall, where he found the whole staircase was
a charred and smouldering mass ready to break into flame at any moment.
Mr. Harris was a man of quick action, but he paused a moment to consider.
He couldn't go up the stairs, they were ready to give way at a touch. He
dared not open the front door, or, indeed, any door that might create a
draught which would fan the stairs into a flame.
So he decided he must rouse the sleepers up-stairs, and then jump out of
the music-room window and run to the tent to get the assistance of the two
boys who were sleeping there.
Being a stranger in the house, he knew of no other stairway, and knew
nothing of the servants or where they might be.
"Mr. Barlow,--fire! Mr. Barlow!" he screamed. "Fire! Mr. Carleton, Fanny!"
but no one answered.
At last Patty was wakened by his voice and ran out in the upper hall. The
draught of her opening door started the flames a little, and when she
looked over the banister, it was into a well of fire.
Before she could say a word, Mr.
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