They found a crowd already gathered there—­men and women, black and white.  Some were carrying out furniture from the lower rooms, some bringing water in buckets from a spring near by, others contenting themselves with looking on and giving orders which nobody obeyed.

“I see the house will have to go,” Mr. Dinsmore said.  “Are the family all out of it?”

“All but an old colored woman,” some one replied, “old Aunt Betsy.  Nobody thought of her in time, and now it’s too late, for the stairs are burned away.  Hark!” as a crash was heard, “there’s the last of them.”

“What! will you leave a helpless old woman to be burnt alive?” cried Captain Raymond.  “Where is she?”

“Yonder!” cried several voices; “see, she’s at the window! and she’s screaming for help!” as a wild shriek rent the air, a black face full of terror and despair showing itself at an upper window, where the fire’s lurid light fell full upon it.

“Oh, ain’t dar nobody to help ole Aunt Betsy?” she screamed, stretching out her wrinkled arms and toil-worn hands in passionate entreaty; “will you ebery one ob you leave de po’ ole woman to burn up in dis awful fiah?  Isn’t ye got no pity in yo’ souls!  Oh, somebody come an’ help de po’ ole woman to git down ’fore she burn all up!”

“A rope!” shouted the captain, “quick! quick! a rope!”

“Heah, massa cap’n!” answered Solon close it hand.  “Ise brung it jus’ in time.”

“What can you do with a rope, Raymond?” asked Donald.

“Make an effort to save her with the help of that lightning-rod.”

“You risk your own life, and it is worth far more than hers,” Donald said entreatingly.

“Stay a moment, captain,” said Mr. Dinsmore, “they are bringing a ladder.”

“But there’s no time to lose; see! the flames are already bursting out from the next window.”

“Yes, but here it is,” as the negroes halted with it close beside them.  “It is to be used to reach that window, boys,” he said, turning to them and pointing upward.  “Set it up there.”

“Can’t do it, sah!  ‘Mos’ as much as a man’s life is wuth to go so near de fire.”

“Then give it to me!” cried the captain, taking hold of it, Mr. Dinsmore and Donald giving their assistance.

It was the work of a moment to set it up against the wall; in another the captain was ascending it, while the other two held it firmly in place.

He gained the window and sprang in.

“Bress you, massa! bress you!” exclaimed the old negress, “you’s gwine to save me I knows.”

“Get out here on to the ladder and climb down as fast as you can,” he said hurriedly, taking hold of her arm to help her.

But she drew back shuddering.  “I can’t, massa!  I’se ole and stiff.  I can’t no how ’tall.”

There was not a moment to lose.  The captain stepped back on to the top round of the ladder, took her in his arms, and began as rapid a descent as was possible so burdened.