“Well, maiden, thy father’s house is safe, and half the bridge is safe; and the thanks of that are due to him and to a worthy neighbour, who by their wise exertions stayed the fire, which might else have spread even to the other side of the river.”

Janet and Dinah exchanged looks of unspeakable relief, and Lord Desborough continued in the same cautious undertone: 

“Once out of doors, the fire fever quickly got its hold on me, even as it has gotten hold upon almost every person in the city.  I had not meant to go far but I took a wherry, and, the tide serving well, I was swiftly borne along towards the bridge, and from the river I saw the raging of such a fire as, methinks, the world has never seen before.  No words of mine can paint the awful grandeur of the sight I saw.  It was as light as day upon the water, and there were times when the river itself seemed ablaze.  For, as the flames wrought havoc amongst the warehouses and stores along the wharfs, burning masses of oil and tar would pour out upon the bosom of the water, blazing terribly, and the boatmen had to keep a sharp watch sometimes lest they and their craft should be engulfed in the fiery stream.  To the ignorant, who knew not what caused the water to wear this aspect of burning, it appeared as though even the river had ignited.  This increased their terrors tenfold, and they say that some poor distraught creatures actually flung themselves into the fire or the water, convinced that the end of the world had come, and careless as to whether they perished soon or late.”

“But my father—­my father!” cried Janet earnestly.

“Ah, true, thy father.  I heard of him from the watermen in the wherries, who told me the tale of how he had saved the bridge by pulling down his workshops and drenching the ruins with water.  It seemeth to me that unless some prompt and resolute course of a similar kind is taken tomorrow or tonight, infinite loss must ensue.  No ordinary means can now check this great fire.  But surely the Lord Mayor and his advisers will have by now a plan on foot.  Were I not so weary, and anxious about my wife, I would go forth once more to see what was doing.  But I must wait now for the morrow, and then, pray Heaven all danger may be at an end.  Fear not, good friends, if you hear terrible sounds as of an earthquake shaking the house this night.  Men say that if the city is to be saved it must be by the blowing up of whole streets of small houses somewhere in the path of the flames, so that they shall have nothing whereon to feed.  Others say that nothing will stop them, and that none will be found ready to make sacrifice of their dwellings for the public good, preferring to risk the chance of the flames reaching them.  I know not the truth of all the rumours flying about; but the thing might be, and might be wisely done.  So fear not if you should hear some sounds that will make you think of an earthquake.  And call me if aught alarms you, or if my wife should change either for the better or the worse.”