Dinah went back with a very grave face to her charge.  The poor lady had now recovered her senses, and though as weak as a newborn babe, was able to smile from time to time upon her husband, who sat beside her holding her hand between his.  He was so overjoyed at this happy change in his wife’s condition that he had no thought to spare at this moment for the peril of the city.  He asked for no news as Dinah appeared; and indeed it was very necessary that the patient should not be in any wise alarmed or excited.

Dinah, however, was becoming very uneasy as time went on; and she was certain that the air grew darker than could be accounted for by the falling dusk, and upon going to the east window as the twilight fell, she was appalled by the awful glare in the sky, and was certain that now, indeed, she did begin to distinguish the roaring of the flames as the wind drifted them ever onwards and onwards.

Had it not been for the exceedingly critical state in which the patient lay, she would have suggested her removal before things grew worse.  As it was, it might be death to move her; and perhaps the flames would be stayed ere they reached the noble cathedral pile.  Surely every effort would be made for that end.  It was difficult to imagine that the citizens would not combine together in some great and mighty effort to save their homes and their sanctuary before it should be too late.

“What an awful sight!” exclaimed a soft voice behind her.  “Heaven grant the peril be not so nigh as it looks!”

It was Lord Desborough, who had come in and was looking with anxious eyes at the flaming sky, over which great clouds of sparks and flaming splinters could be seen drifting.  It might only be fancy, but the room seemed to be growing hot with the breath of the fire.  The young nobleman’s face was very grave and disturbed.

“What must we do?” he asked of Dinah.  “Can she be moved?  Ought we to take her elsewhere?”

“I would we could,” answered Dinah, “but she is so weak that it may be death to carry her hence, and if we spoke to her of this terrible thing that is happening, the shock might bring back the fever, and then, indeed, all would be lost.”

The husband wrung his hands together in the utmost anxiety.  Dinah stood thinking deeply.

“My lord,” she presently said, “it may come to this, that she will have to be moved, risk or no risk.  Should we not think about whither to take her if it be needful?”

“Ay, verily; but where may that be?  Who can know what place is safe?  And to transport her far would be certain death.  She would die on the road thither.”

“That is very true, my lord,” answered Dinah; “but it has come into my mind that, perchance, my sister’s house could receive her—­that house upon the bridge, which is now safe, and which can be in no danger again, since all the city about it lies in ashes.  By boat we could transport her most gently of all; and tonight, upon the rising tide, it might well be done, if the need should become more pressing.”