The fire was even spreading eastward in spite of the strong east wind—­not, of course, with anything like the rapidity with which it made its way westward, but in a fashion which plainly showed how firm a hold it had upon the doomed houses.

There was no time to lose if Lady Scrope and her valuables were to be saved.  The house seemed full of smoke as they entered it; and Dorcas led them up the stairs into the parlour, at the window of which her mistress was standing, leaning upon her stick, and uttering a succession of short, sharp exclamations, intermingled with the cackling laugh of old age.

“Ha! that is a good one!  Some roof fell in then!  See the sparks rushing up like waters from a fountain!  I would not have missed that!  Pity it is daylight; ’twould have been twice as fine at night!  Good! good! good! yes run, my man, run, or the flames will catch you.  Ha! they gave him a lick, and he has dropped his bundle and fled for his very life.  Ha! ha! ha! it is as good as the best play I ever saw in my life!  Here comes another.  Oh, he has so laden himself that he can scarcely run.  There! he is down; he struggles to rise, but his pack holds him to the ground.  O my good fool! you will find that your goods cost you dear today.  You should have read your Bible to better purpose.  Ah! there is some good-natured fool helping him up and along.  It is more than he deserves.  I should have liked to see what he did when the next wave of fire ran up the street.

“Dorcas, child, where art thou?  Thou art losing the finest sight of thy life!  If thou hast courage to stay with me, why hast thou not courage to enjoy such a sight as thou wilt not see twice in a lifetime?”

“Madam! madam!” cried the girl running forward, “here are my father and brother, come to help to save your goods and escape by the back.  They have brought the boat to Cold Harbour, where it is moored; and, if it please you, they will conduct you to it, and come back and fetch such goods as you would most wish saved.”

But the old woman did not even turn her head.  She was eagerly scanning the street without, along which sheets of flame seemed to be driven.

“Great powers, what a noise!  Methinks some church tower has collapsed.  St. Lawrence, Poultney, belike.  St. Mary’s, Bush Lane, will be the next.  Would I were there to see.  I will to the roof of the house to obtain a better view.  Zounds, but this is worth a hundred plagues!  I had never thought to live to see London burned about my ears.  What a noise the fire makes!  It is like the rushing of a mighty flood.  Oh, a flood of fire is a fine thing!”

The weird old woman looked like a spirit of the devouring element, as she stood at her window talking aloud in her strange excitement and enjoyment of the awful destruction about her.  The heat within the room was becoming intolerable, yet she did not appear to feel it.  The house being well built, with thick walls and well-fitting windows, resisted the entrance of the great volumes of smoke that roiled along laden with sparks and burning fragments of wood; but these fiery heralds were becoming so menacing and continuous, that the Harmers saw plainly how little time was to be lost if they would save either the old woman or her valuables.