times they fancied they heard the shouting, but the wind generally carried it away.  The cold was bitter, and they had to hold together and keep a tight grip upon their garments against the gusts that seemed to rock the tower; but they could not bear to turn away, though the clock beneath pealed out hour after hour; for still, as the flames were subdued in one place they broke out in another; but gradually smoke became predominant, and then grew thinner, and as some of the black specks began to straggle into the road as if returning to Compton, the desire to hear became more pressing than that to see, and the three ladies began to descend—­a slow and weary process, cutting them off from the view, and lasting so long, that the road was no longer deserted when they finally emerged into the churchyard.

Young Mr. Bowater, grimed, dusty, hatless, and his hair on end, and Rollo following with his feathery tail singed, hurried up at once.  “I’m not fit to touch, Lady Rosamond,” as he showed a black hand, and bowed to the others.

“Where’s Ju—­where’s my husband?” exclaimed Rosamond.

“Just behind, riding home with Raymond and the rest of them.  Wasn’t it a magnificent flare-up?  But there was no loss of life; and this dog was of as much use as two men—­carried whatever I told him.”

“Good old man!  You’ve suffered too!” said Rosamond.  “Pah! you’re like a singed horse; but never mind, you’re a hero.”

“And where is Mr. Charnock Poynsett?” said Cecil, retreating from the dog, which her sisters-in-law were vehemently patting.

“He was arranging with the mayor.  Church, paper-mills, and town-hall got the worst of it.  It was well he came down; old Briggs, the mayor, lost his head, and Fuller never had one.  Every one gave contrary orders till he came down, and then, didn’t we work!”

The curate stretched his stalwart limbs, as if they were becoming sensible of the strain they had undergone.

“Did you say the church was burnt?” asked Cecil.

“Yes; and a very good thing too!  Hideous place, where you couldn’t do right if you died for it!  The fire began there—­stoves no doubt—­ and there it would have stopped if any one had had any sense; but there they would run and gape, and the more I tried to get them to form a chain and drench the warehouses, the more they wouldn’t do it.  And when the flame once got hold of the paper—­did you see it?—­ it was not a thing to forget.  I verily believe the whole town would have gone if the Charnocks hadn’t come and got a little discipline into the asses.  It was just life and death work, fighting the fire to hinder it from getting across Water Lane, and then it would have been all up with High Street.  The tongues broke out like live things ready to lick up everything; and it was like killing dragons to go at them with the hose and buckets.  I declare my arms are fit to drop out of their sockets.  And the Rector devoted himself to carrying out bed-ridden old women.  I forgot to tell you, Lady Rosamond, he has broken his—­There now, I never meant to frighten you—­broken his spectacles.”