“Stephen!” she cried, with all her might, and then flew to Mrs. Tadman’s door and knocked violently.  She waited for no answer, but rushed on to the room where the two women-servants slept together, and called to them loudly to get up for their lives, the house was on fire.

There were still the men in the story above to be awakened, and the smoke was every moment growing thicker.  She mounted a few steps of the staircase, and called with all her strength.  It was very near their time for stirring.  They must hear her, surely.  Suddenly she remembered an old disused alarm-bell which hung in the roof.  She had seen the frayed rope belonging to it hanging in an angle of the passage.  She flew to this, and pulled it vigorously till a shrill peal rang out above; and once having accomplished this, she went on, reckless of her own safety, thinking only how many there were to be saved in that house.

All this time there was no sign of her husband, and a dull horror came over her with the thought that he might be perishing miserably below.  There could be no doubt that the fire came from downstairs.  That crackling noise had increased, and every now and then there came a sound like the breaking of glass.  The red glow shining in at the front windows grew deeper and brighter.  The fire had begun in the parlour, of course, where they had left Stephen Whitelaw basking in the warmth of his resinous pine-logs.

Ellen was still ringing the bell, when she heard a man’s footstep coming along the passage towards her.  It was not her husband, but one of the farm-servants from the upper story, an honest broad-shouldered fellow, as strong as Hercules.

“Lord a mercy, mum, be that you?” he cried, as he recognised the white half-dressed figure clinging to the bell-rope “let me get ‘ee out o’ this; the old place’ll burn like so much tinder;” and before she could object, he had taken her up in his arms as easily as if she had been a child, and was carrying her towards the principal staircase.

Here they were stopped.  The flames and smoke were mounting from the lobby below; the man turned immediately, wasting no time by indecision, and ran to the stairs leading down to the kitchen.  In this direction all was safe.  There was smoke, but in a very modified degree.

“Robert,” Ellen cried eagerly, when they had reached the kitchen, where all was quiet, “for God’s sake, go and see what has become of your master.  We left him drinking in the parlour last night.  I’ve called to him again and again, but there’s been no answer.”

“Don’t you take on, mum; master’s all right, I daresay.  Here be the gals and Mrs. Tadman coming downstairs; they’ll take care o’ you, while I go and look arter him.  You’ve no call to be frightened.  If the fire should come this way, you’ve only got to open yon door and get out into the yard.  You’re safe here.”

The women were all huddled together in the kitchen by this time, half dressed, shivering, and frightened out of their wits.  Ellen Whitelaw was the only one among them who displayed anything like calmness.