I think my idea must have
been written on my face, for though I didn't speak, Rupert seemed to
guess at once, and he ran after me, crying, 'Let me go, Henrietta!'
but I pretended not to hear.
"When we got to the back of the house the fire was not nearly so bad,
and we got in. But though it wasn't exactly on fire where we were, the
smoke came rolling down the passage from the front of the house, and
by the time we got to the back stairs we could not see or breathe, in
spite of wet cloths over our faces, and our eyes smarted with the
smoke. Go down on all fours, Henny,' said Rupert. So I did. It was
wonderful. When I got down with my face close to the ground there was
a bit of quite fresh air, and above this the smoke rolled like a
cloud. I could see the castors of the legs of a table in the hall, but
no higher up. In this way we saw the foot of the back stairs, and
climbed up them on our hands and knees. But in spite of the bit of
fresh air near the ground the smoke certainly grew thicker, and it got
hotter and hotter, and we could hear the roaring of the flames coming
nearer, and the clanging of the bells outside, and I never knew what
it was to feel thirst before then! When we were up the first flight,
and the smoke was suffocating, I heard Rupert say, 'Oh, Henny, you
good girl, shall we ever get down again!' I couldn't speak, my throat
was so sore, but I remember thinking, 'It's like going up through the
clouds into heaven; and we shall find Baby Cecil there.
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