‘What’s that to you.  Come away, like a rational being.’

‘Ha! what’s that?’ as a frightful, agonizing shriek rent the air, and a pillar of flame came rushing across the now open space.  It was a child, one mass of fire, and flying, in its anguish, from all who would have seized it.  One moment of horror, and it had vanished!  The next, Genevieve’s voice was heard crying, ’Bring me something more to press on it.’  She had contrived to cross its path with her large carriage rug, and was kneeling over it, forcing down the rug to smother the flames.  Mr. Hope brought her a shawl, and they all stood round in silent awe.

‘The poor child will be stifled,’ said Albinia, kneeling down to help to unfold its face.

Poor little face, distorted with terror and agony!  One of the policemen recognised it as the child of the public-house in Tibb’s Alley.  There were moans, but no one dared to uncover the limbs; and the policeman and Mr. Hope proposed carrying it at once to Mr. Bowles, and then home.  Mr. Kendal desired that it should be laid on the seat of the carriage, which he would drive gently to the doctor’s.  Genevieve got in to watch over the poor little boy, and the others walked on by the side, passed the battle-field, now entirely deserted, too much shocked for aught but conjectures on his injuries, and the cause of the misfortune.  Either he must have been pushed in on the fire by the runaway rabble, or have trod upon some of the scattered combustibles.

Mr. Bowles desired that the child should be taken home at once, promising to follow instantly; so at the entrance of Tibb’s Alley, the carriage stopped, and Mr. Hope lifted out the poor little wailing bundle.  Albinia was following, but a decided prohibition from her husband checked her.  ’I would not have either of you go to that house on any account.  Tell them to send to us for whatever they want, but that is enough.’

There was no gainsaying such a command, but as they reached the door of Willow Lawn, Mr. Kendal exclaimed, ‘Where is Miss Durant?’

‘She is gone with the little boy,’ said Sophy.  ’She told me she hoped you would not be displeased.  Mr. Hope will take care of her, and she will soon come in.’

‘Every one is mad to-night!’ cried Mr. Kendal.  ’In such a place as that!  I will go for her directly.’

‘Pray don’t,’ said Albinia, ’no one could speak a rude word to her on such an errand.  She and Mr. Hope will be much more secure from incivility without you.’

‘I believe it may be so, but I wish—­’

His wish was broken off, for his little Albinia, screaming, ’Papa! papa!’ clung to him in a transport of caresses, which Maurice explained by saying, ’Little Awkey has been crying, mamma, she thought they were burning papa in the bonnie.’

‘Papa not burnt!’ cried little Awkey, patting his cheeks, and laying her head on his shoulders alternately, as he held her to his breast.  ’Naughty people wanted to make a fire, but they sha’n’t burn papa or poor Guy Fawkes, or any of the good men.’