THE RESCUE

Matthew stopped short, unable to move a yard further, his eyes fixed upon the slight form hanging so dangerously high above him.  It was truly an awful moment for both the lads, a moment never afterwards to be forgotten by either of them.  The time of suspense was but seconds; it seemed years.  But George, his knees firmly pressed against the low parapet wall that ran along the top in front of the house, had no difficulty in supporting the weight, and not too much in actually hauling up his living burden.  Another moment and he had seized one arm with a strong grip; the next he had pulled the child to him on the roof.

“Safe! thank God!” he murmured, almost breathless with his exertions and still more with his agitation.

Safe!  As if to mock him a great tongue of flame shot from the window from which rescuer and rescued had but now emerged, and a cry of despair rose from Matthew below.

“Run for the library!” Blackett shouted, a thought suddenly striking him.  “Run, run!” And the boy pointed to a sort of wing, an addition to the mansion recently made by the Squire, and devoted to his books and the extensive and valuable collection of antiquities and curiosities of which he was very proud.  This building was connected with the body of the house by only one small arched door, on the ground-floor.

George understood, and cautiously but rapidly edging his way along the broad leaden gutter behind the parapet, he drew the girl, by this time conscious once more, but dazed with fright, to the outlying portion of the roof, which was as yet untouched by the flames.  He peered over for Matthew, but could see nothing of him.

For the moment the two were in no danger.  But the flames were already licking the portion of the library immediately adjoining the house proper; soon the whole wing must be ablaze.  The boy gazed wildly around, to see if there was any means, however risky or even desperate, by which escape might be made.  He saw nothing but the slender branches of a magnificent yew that grew in the retired garden behind and close to the library.  These boughs overtopped even the tall building, and some of them overhung the roof a little.  But the nearest of them was ten feet above the heads of the two, and hopelessly out of reach.  Would that some great gust of wind would drive those branches within clutching distance!

This tantalizing thought had hardly taken possession of George’s mind when his attention was attracted by shouts from below.  Peering down he was astonished to see Matthew rapidly climbing the yew.  The same thought had struck him also!  Up the climber swarmed, higher and higher.  Then he began without hesitation to crawl along some of the topmost branches that overhung the library roof.  Outwards he crept, embracing tightly half a dozen of the long thin boughs; they seemed but little more than twigs.

“You’ll be dashed to pieces!” Mary cried; “go back, go back!”