Chapter 2

FIGHTING FIRE.

A sudden scream of terror from the cottage roused Dick from his thinking, and laying the baby down he rushed in.

On the doorstep he met little Susy, with her lilac pinafore in flames. She had been trying to reach something from the mantelpiece, and had climbed up on the unsteady old fender. There was no guard in front of the open fire, and the draught had drawn her pinafore towards the bars and set it on fire, and the flames were mounting around her, and already her hair was singed.

But Lionheart knew what to do. With a spring and a cry he caught her just as she was rushing out-of-doors, and flinging her down he fell on her, and tore and clutched at the burning rags with his bare hands.

She screamed with fright rather than with pain, but Dick did not let go till the danger was past; and his clothes, being woollen, did not catch.

There was a scuffle of footsteps as Mrs. Fowley and two other women came in with a great outcry. And the sobbing child was wrapped in a big shawl, and the doctor sent for.

And her mother, to relieve her own fears, began as usual to upbraid Dick.

"It's all your fault, you good-for-nothing pauper! Why didn't you look after the child?"

"I thought you had her, she went out with you," he said, trembling with dread of more than a scolding, and scarcely able to bear the pain in his poor burned hands.

"Then you'd no business to think," she screamed. "What you've got to do is to mind the children, and anything else I've a mind to order you to do. Three years and better we've kep' you out of charity, and you don't earn shoe leather yet. Where's the baby?"

"Asleep in the garden, I put her down under the tree when I heard Susy cry out."

"Then go and fetch her this minute. And a fine hiding you'll get when Fowley comes home. Susy's his favourite out of 'em all."

Dick looked appealingly at the neighbours and muttered, "I--I can't carry her--my hands----"

"Bless me, there's work for the doctor here," said one of the women in consternation, as she looked at his poor scorched fingers.

"Depend upon 't, Mrs. Fowley, he's saved your Susy's life. Best not talk about hidings."

"What's the matter here?" cried a brisk voice at the door, as the old doctor entered. He had been visiting in the next street, and was fortunately met by the messenger.

"Burns. Ah! the old story--open fires and no guard. When _will_ you women learn wisdom?"

Mrs. Fowley shrank from his stern look, and whined, "How can the likes of we afford guards, I should like to know?"

"Afford?" he echoed sharply, as he turned from his examination of Susy's hurts. "You women spend enough at the 'Blue Dragon' every week to put a guard at every fire-place, to say nothing of what the men spend. If you hadn't been drinking together, and neglecting home, this wouldn't have happened. I can smell the gin here and now!"

The old doctor was noted for his plain speaking, but with all his sternness to wrong doing, he was very tender-hearted, and nothing could have been more gentle than his touch on Susy's arm.

Fortunately her hurts were surface burns, and no vital part had been touched by the flame. But Dick's were more severe, and the doctor took infinite pains in bandaging the scarred hands and wrists.

"You're a brave lad," he said, when the pain was eased, and the last strip of lint put on. "How did _you_ come to be burned like this?"

"I ran in from the garden when she screamed, and I got her down and scrambled out the flames somehow with my hands and jacket. You see, I _had_ to be Lionheart," he added softly.

"Lionheart, is _he_ your hero, the crusader king?"

Dick nodded, half scared at finding his cherished aspirations shared by another.

"But there is a living Leader to follow, my boy, who is better than all the knights of old. Do you know whom I mean?"

"Yes, sir, the Lord Jesus."

"Yes, He is the Lion of Judah, and the true Captain of all true crusaders to-day. Follow Him, and he will make you Lionheart indeed."

Then turning to Mrs. Fowley, he said in a different tone, "You owe your child's life to this brave little lad. Now take care of him in return. He'll not be able to work for a good while, and he wants feeding up as well. He has no business to be so thin and ill-nourished. See that his hands are kept covered, and Susy's arm too. I'll send liniment down to-night for both. And you will have to nurse the baby yourself, and do the work for many a day."

The old doctor's voice was stern as he finished, for he had known Dick's father and mother in their own tidy little home, and he hated Mrs. Fowley's drinking habits, and her neglect of the children, and unkindness to the orphan boy. For once she looked ashamed of herself, and the neighbours, feeling guilty themselves, slipped away. They knew the doctor was right, and that most of the accidents he had to attend, and the poverty that caused him to work for nothing, were alike due to the drink.

And life was certainly a little easier for Dick in the next few days.

His bandaged hands made house-work impossible, and so he was allowed to go to school in peace.

And the knowledge that Susy owed her life to him, made even the ill-tempered father a shade less surly.

He could not write or do sums, but the teacher saw that his time was well filled. Dick was a favourite of his because his work was so faithfully done, in spite of drawbacks.

Home lessons had small chance in Mrs. Fowley's presence, and the frequent excuses for keeping him at home had sadly interfered with his getting on, but in school no boy was happier than he.

In the playground there might be taunts about his shabby clothes, and rough usage from the Fowley boys, that were hard to bear patiently.

And he did not always succeed in keeping his temper down.

But when, once or twice, he had struck a blow for freedom, garbled tales were carried home and he had to suffer tenfold afterwards for his daring.

But the thought of Lionheart and his long waiting made him brave to suffer and endure. And more and more the thought of Jesus, as the Friend and Leader of those who follow Him, filled the darkest hours with joy.

The annual examination was drawing near, and Dick was very anxious to be able to use his hands by then, and "pass the standard" successfully.

Meanwhile, he worked doubly hard, and went far ahead of the other boys in lessons that had to be learned by heart.

And the teacher lent him books to read that helped him wonderfully, though he could only read them by snatches.

He saw how boys as poor and friendless as himself had had to bear hardship and unkindness, and how they had fought their way onward, through all difficulties, to success and freedom, and his own resolve grew stronger every day.

Now and then Mrs. Fowley would order him to be off out of her way, and when this happened in the evening he gladly went to Paddy's lodgings.

It was so quiet there, after the scolding and quarrelling at home, and Paddy always had a welcome for him, while bright-eyed Pat quickly learned to know his owner.

He grew very fast, and was so full of fun and frolic, that there were no dull times when he was awake.

And Paddy, who seemed to know all about dogs and their doings, suggested that he should be taught tricks "because of his knowingness."

And teaching him to beg and sing and shake hands, filled many a merry half-hour that autumn, and the Fowley's would scarcely have known Dick, if they had seen him there.

When the examination day came he managed to get through successfully, though his paperwork had to have allowances made for its deficiencies.

But at home all the effects of Susy's rescue had passed away, and Dick was more scolded and starved than ever before.