Part 16

Sir Evas and Toney travelled up to London directly after the wedding pair had left in a private carriage ordered by Toney. In the train the heiress was very quiet. Sir Evas put it down to weariness, and no wonder after all she had accomplished this morning; so the "Good Comrade" respected her silence and read his paper. He was very understanding as Toney always expressed it. At Waterloo, Sir Evas called a hansom for Toney.

"Toney, you'll only go to Mr. Staines. Eh? Why not come on to Charing Cross Hotel later, and have tea or something?"

Toney turned away to find her umbrella. The temptation was very great.

"I shan't have much time, uncle, and I'll get back by the first train possible; Aunt Dove will feel dull and will want to hear all about the wedding. She doesn't quite approve of it, so she had a headache; but she is dying to hear particulars I know!"

"You see, musicians are--well, I mean marrying out of your set wasn't the fashion in her day."

"I wish I knew a nice sweep!" said Toney laughing, "but I don't; or I might, perhaps, fall in love with him; anyhow, I'm booked for a wallflower, so I shan't shock her!"

"Humph!" said Sir Evas. "Well, good-bye, I'll do your commission for you, Toney, in fact I'm going straight to Lawn and Alders now, to order a 450-bore high velocity cordite rifle for Lewis' lions. Make your mind easy and I'll be back to-morrow. Any message to Waycott?"

"No, nothing in particular. Tell him it was mean to miss the wedding, and tell him that Maud looked very pretty as well as the bride. Good-bye, Ducky Uncle."

The cab drove off and Sir Evas was left on the platform looking after it.

"There's something on the child's mind," he said to himself. "It's not Lewis Waycott, she could have come to hunt me up if it had been. I laid that trap nicely."

Chuckling at his own deep artfulness, Sir Evas went off to see about the necessary kit for killing lions and tigers!

The clerks at Mr. Staines' office paid the heiress great attention. It annoyed Toney, and indeed she looked so young and so simple it was difficult to treat her as a great lady, but they all knew she was worth L50,000 a year! You cannot be treated in an ordinary way if you are worth that amount. Toney was shown into the private room at once.

"How are you, Miss Whitburn? Delighted to see you! This is nicer than the telephone."

"Yes. Never quite sure who's hulloing," laughed Toney. "I shan't be long. Do you know Stone House has been begun this week?"

Mr. Staines shook his head.

"It will swallow a large sum of--but you can afford it."

"I've given _carte blanche_ for everything about it The firm is honest and I won't have scamped work. Pups said it never paid. I don't want to ruin the building either, and I want a margin for improvements."

"You have a very good head for business, Miss Whitburn. Now, how can I help you?"

Toney rose from the chair, she felt less cramped standing up.

"Why, ever so much!" She took a paper out of her pocket which was covered with figures. "First, tell me how much I could live on suppose I left Aldersfield House? Not yet; but suppose Aunt and uncle died suddenly, the place goes to a distant cousin who is a Judge in New Zealand, and he has a large family?"

"You would then make a home of your own."

"Yes; but I wouldn't have a big place in a park. They sort of stifle me. I want just necessities, because I haven't screwed up my courage to beg yet."

"To beg!" Mr. Staines thought his client had gone off her head.

"Yes. St. Francis did, you know--but then at that time you weren't taken up for begging as I should be now."

They both laughed.

"I think you would be put in a lunatic asylum begging with L50,000 a year."

"That's just it. Well, it's no good beating about the bush. Stone House will cost a heap to build, but now I want to make sure it's endowed."

"Endowed! Good heavens!"

"Why, of course, you can't live on nice rooms, can you? It may take in about forty persons double and single--then----. Yes, I want all my money to go to endow it, except just what will prevent my being a beggar."

"When you die you mean," said the lawyer turning a little pink. It was like someone suggesting throwing a priceless picture into the Thames.

"No, now, at once---- You know, Mr. Staines, my will was only temporary. I told you so. If I build and endow Stone House it will be a real monument to the memory of the General and Pups."

"What madness! You are so young, you will marry, and your husband has a right to expect a large proportion of your fortune."

"There it is again," cried Toney. "I won't marry; but if I did, why should he expect my money? If I'm not worth loving without, then--oh, I'm glad I shall never, never marry--and if I give this away it will save a lot of people the trouble of asking me for it."

"It's madness, utter foolishness," cried the lawyer, rising and pacing about the room; "sheer, downright madness! I won't be a party to it."

Toney turned pale. Would no one help her? Would no one understand that to give this away was real happiness, that she could never bear the burden alone, and that by keeping it she was a temptation to every man who required money?

"I think the General would understand, Mr. Staines, and so would Uncle Evas."

"Though you are your own mistress, I must consult your uncle."

Toney shook her head.

"It's no use---- He wouldn't like to go slap against you! Old family lawyers are such tyrants."

Mr. Staines looked furious.

"Tyrants, indeed! But for us half the owners of money would commit endless follies such as you wish to do, Miss Whitburn!"

"You can't keep all that pile and remain on the 'Path of Perfection,'" said Toney decidedly, "it can't be done. I wish you would read 'The Little Flowers.'"

"This is pure drivelling----"

"Look here, Mr. Staines, I've a real regard for you. You wouldn't run away with anyone's money, but--you don't understand. Anyhow, I've told you I mean to keep some, because there are always needy people, and then I think I shall keep the Haven to retire to myself, and I could live then on--there I do want help. I've always lived on nothing before I had this pile."

"Are you decided?"

"Quite, quite, quite--if you can't do it, hitch me on to a man that will."

Toney stood now firm and strong. The colour returned to her cheeks.

Mr. Staines could not possibly lose the handling of the money, so he bowed to necessity.

"I must reserve enough for your private needs and casual charity," he said.

"That's it. I thought you'd come round to see it, Mr. Staines. Only I want it done awfully soon, and then I shall breathe again! In fact draw up something now, to make it quite secure. One never knows. I might have a smash in the train to-day. You see I couldn't be sure about Aunt Dove, she does love the coin. Sort of madness, I guess."

"Cannot I first see Sir Evas Dove?" groaned Mr. Staines.

"It would make no difference; still, when it's done you can tell him. I like everything above board, don't you?"

"Above board" was the last thing suitable for his position. The lawyer did not answer.

"I'll go and get a mouthful to eat, Mr. Staines, arguing with you has made me so hungry, and then I'll come back and sign."

"Give me discretion to keep a sufficiency for----"

"Yes--and if it's too much I can come again, but, gracious stars! it's enough to stifle a poor girl having to decide all these questions. Half an hour will do for a preliminary canter, won't it, and make it sure."

Toney departed and took a cab to Lyons' Restaurant, Piccadilly. All the time she looked out at the passers-by. By a bare chance she might see Lewis Waycott walking about, and she would just nod a last good-bye. What would he say to her action? She didn't know, but she believed he would say "Quite right, Toney, much better secure it for these people."

Of course he was the only man who would not reproach her! Her heart felt lighter.

The Lyons made her think still more of Lewis' lions! She ordered some tea and hot toast to try and get him out of her thoughts, but she felt terribly lonely in the big place so full of people going and coming. It was like a miniature world full of persons thinking of their own concerns or their own comfort. For the first time she began to appreciate the lonely park at Aldersfield. It was this busy world that oppressed her now. Was she changing? She who had jostled against so many persons, and who had been afraid of nothing.

She felt better after her tea and jumped into a hansom again, to return to Mr. Staines. How glad she would be when the deed of gift was done and signed.

Once more she stood in the private room. Mr. Staines looked really distressed.

"You have forced me to go against my conscience," he said, unfolding a big paper.

Toney could not help laughing as she sat down with alacrity to sign.

"I've kept a sufficiency," he said; "don't try me too much."

"You are really nice," she answered, signing her full name with a flourish whilst two clerks came to witness the signature and retired, little guessing what they had helped to do.

"I've endowed Stone House with L30,000 a year. That will be ample for a whole colony. The money you gave to Lady Dove has taken a slice of the capital, and you have lived in fine style since then! Then the building will take another large slice."

"When Aunt Dove dies I want you to settle the L2,000 on Miss Maud Hamilton," said Toney. "She is a great friend of mine and poor. Oh, I've had a glorious time, Mr. Staines, but I knew it was only for a time. St. Francis never kept things with the excuse of giving them away again."

"Hang St. Francis!"

Toney laughed, and Mr. Staines could not help smiling.

"Well, good-bye, I've got to catch a train, and please, Mr. Staines, will you accept a little personal present? Not the firm---- Just to show you forgive me, and _I_ won't say how _you_ are to spend it! Oh, it's from me and the General."

Then like a strange gleam of unearthly sunshine Toney was gone. Mr. Staines opened the envelope and discovered a cheque for a thousand pounds. From another client it is doubtful if he would have accepted it, but a strange smile passed over his face.

"They are going to shut up a wing of the Children's Hospital at Margate," he said; "this will just save it; that girl sets a shocking example, but I did my best----"

He was not yet happy, but, strange to say, he was somewhat comforted.

Toney walked into the Aldersfield drawing-room half an hour before the dressing bell. Lady Dove was listening to Miss Grossman's rather loud voice. The novel was dull, and she was glad to stop her. Usually Miss Grossman insisted on reading the whole hour before dinner without stopping or allowing her employer to talk.

"Oh, Aunt Dove, I've had a nice afternoon. I saw Mr. Staines and had a jolly tea at the Lyons' Restaurant. Uncle is coming back early to-morrow, but I knew you'd be dying to hear about our wedding."

"Mrs. Hamilton has been here and told me all. I'm sure, Toney, you must have wasted a great deal on flowers out of season."

"They did good all round, and Jeanie and Mr. Weston just seemed lifted up by them. So would you have been if you'd seen them."

"I never countenance useless waste," was the answer.

"Sentimentality is not sentiment," interposed Miss Grossman.

To herself Toney said, "Consider the lilies of the field how they grow;" aloud, she added, "Anyhow Miss Honoria agreed that Jeanie and Maud looked lovely!"

"Mrs. Hamilton really bored me about her daughters' perfections. I said I was sorry her son-in-law's escutcheon was a blank, but, of course, she is going to keep Maud in her own set. Lewis Waycott has as many quarterings as the Hamiltons."

Toney's heart went thump, thump, again. How horrid she was!

"Quarterings are no use at all to the Westons. They will be just perfect without them," said Toney.

"But of course," continued Lady Dove, "I do wonder at her countenancing the marriage of cousins."

"The future owner of Waycott will be an idiot," said Miss Grossman decidedly. Then Toney rushed away; the atmosphere of the drawing-room without Uncle Evas suffocated her. "If it weren't for him," she thought, "I would fly to the Haven at once, but I can't forsake him, no, I can't, he's so awfully good to me."

Happily everybody was tired that evening (Miss Grossman condescended to dine with them as Lady Dove was alone, for Toney's companionship did not count), and Toney did her best to rattle on about all sorts of things till the early bedtime when all three were glad to retire to bed, little guessing what the night would bring forth, but as Toney said her prayers her heart seemed suddenly to feel light again.

"It will be easier to get to the other side," she thought, "without that load, anyway!"

*CHAPTER XXX.*

*A FIERY ORDEAL.*

Toney was usually an excellent sleeper and it took a good deal to wake her before morning, and she had gone through much in the last twenty-four hours. The brain, however, can be powerfully impressed by smell, and this must have been the reason why at two o'clock she heard a soft whine close to her ear, then a short, sharp bark, and then Toney started up in bed, fully awake. Next she gave a sniff and then the strong clear mind went straight to the mark.

"Powder me pink!" she exclaimed, then she jumped out of bed and dressed quicker than she had ever done in her life before. Her garments were few and substantial, and she drew on a skirt and a flannel blouse. Next she seized a big bath towel and soaked it in her hip bath.

"It's shorter in the long run," she thought, then she cautiously opened the door of her small room at the top of the house. The passage had smoke in it too, thicker smoke than in her room. For half a second she paused to think as she snatched up Trick in her arms. "Maids up here--the men in the other wing--bother, the telephone is down in my room--worse luck!" Then she dashed along the passage to the maids' rooms, opening each door as she passed, and shouting, "Get up! Fire! Quick!" At the end of the passage the cook opened the door, she was dressed, having also been awakened by the smell of smoke.

"Oh, Miss Tonia! It's fire--God have mercy on us!"

"All right, ring a bell out of the window, the men in the other wing will hear it. Shout Fire!--and, look here, tell the maids to dress first, it's safer in the end."

The elderly cook felt that Miss Tonia was right, her words acted like a strong restorative and brought back her presence of mind as the half-dressed maids crowded into the passage.

"Dress all of you girls, thick jackets, it's cold; we are safe at present." Toney paused.

"Yes, all safe at present, take wet towels with you. I'm afraid it's on the first floor, and these stairs don't look inviting!"

A volume of smoke rolled up now, and for a moment hid them from each other. Toney wrapped her wet towel round her head and shoulders and once more called out,

"Keep together--shout loud--try the other stairs, not these. I'll go and explore, but you had better not. Try the leads, you'll be safer there. Good-bye!"

"Miss Tonia! for God's sake don't go down those stairs, it's madness, stay here," cried the cook.

"I can't, Aunt Dove and Miss Grossman, but look here, Rose, take Trick and hold him tight, he will want to follow me and I must have my two hands," then suddenly Toney disappeared in another volume of smoke. The maids shrieked and wrung their hands, but the cook had happily regained her senses.

"Girls! follow me, the other stairs may be safe."

Clinging to each other they ran down the long passage, but at the other end they found quite as much smoke, for the narrow stairs seemed to act like two funnels.

"Let's go down, oh, let's go down!" cried the maids, "we must go before it's too late!"

"Miss Tonia said, 'the leads'--I think, girls, she's right. We can call for help from there. We might be suffocated in this smoke. Make for the trap-door on to the leads," and soon they were breathing pure air and exercising their lungs with screams. To their delight they saw that men were already running about below and were signalling to them that help was coming.

We must follow Toney on her dangerous exploration. She had one idea in her mind. The fire must have begun in her Aunt Dove's room or else in Miss Grossman's, a few doors off, or else in some flue close by. The dense smoke pointed unmistakably to this. Had they escaped? Their rooms were at the end of a passage, and they must go down it to reach the central staircase. The stairs down which she now forced her way were rather steep, and ended at the opposite end of the Hall to where was her aunt's passage, but Toney knew every step by heart. It was impossible to see even if there had been any light, the smoke was too thick. Should she meet the fire face to face and be driven back? Even here she felt the stairs were hot and the smoke was terrible. When she reached the bottom, however, she paused; by some strange freak for a few moments the smoke cleared, and she could breathe again! Oh, the relief! but this was only for a moment. She had to keep her mind clear; wrapping her wet towel still closer to her head, she made a dash along the central passage. Toney realised that this was passable, but dense smoke came rolling towards her from her aunt's passage. Oh, how could she pass it? She must, she must go on, for no one answered her smothered cry of "Aunt Dove! Aunt Dove! Miss Grossman!"

Again she paused to take what breath she could. Her eyes tingled, she felt choked, but as yet she saw no fire.

"I must, I must," she repeated and strangely enough came the words to her mind, "the Path of Perfection." Was this the Path? If only Aunt Dove were not locked in! If only Uncle Evas had been here! if only-- "Now," she thought, feeling the towel was getting dry and smoke-laden, "Now!"

Never had Toney made such a desperate dart down the passage. Oh, the heat! and the roaring and the smoke!--the smoke, that was the most terrible part of it! She hurled herself, blindfolded as she was, against the door and it gave way, but how the smoke rolled in with her! So immediately she shut the door, then she loosed the towel and called out.

"Aunt Dove, Aunt Dove! where are you? Speak, I can't see, Aunt Dove!"

"Help! help!" was the feeble smothered answer, but it was Miss Grossman's voice.

"Where? where?" She stumbled forwards across the big room and knocked against the bath filled with water. She stooped down and dashed her head in it, towel and all. What a relief she felt as she staggered forwards.

"Miss Grossman, where is Aunt Dove? Where are you?"

"In the wardrobe--we are suffocated! Help! help!"

"Come out quick." Toney seized another towel and dipped it in the bath. "We can still cross--at least I think so."

The big wardrobe opened, and as Miss Grossman crawled out Toney threw the wet towel over her; then Lady Dove emerged speechless from fear and smoke.

"Miss Grossman, why didn't you go down? I, think we can still do it."

"I ran in here, and then--Lady Dove would not follow me. Oh, the smoke--the window--open the window!"

"No, no, not yet, the draught--quick, oh, quick--Aunt Dove, take my arm. You have only your dressing-gown--take a blanket--Miss Grossman, run fast, we will follow." Miss Grossman was feeling the relief of the wet towel, she made a dash towards the door.

"Quick! Aunt Dove, follow me--I'll drag you, we have only just time."

"I can't, Antonia--don't leave me--oh, I can't breathe!"

"You must, you must." Toney dragged her a few steps, but fear had paralyzed her; at this moment Miss Grossman had reached the door and realised the danger of opening it more than once. A dull roar was heard.

"Are you coming? For God's sake, I cannot go alone----"

"Go," cried Toney, "you have time--I think. Aunt Dove, come, for Uncle Evas' sake come--pull yourself together. In a minute we----"

The door was opened by Miss Grossman, whose muffled voice again called out, "Come, come," then she shut it again, and Toney was left alone with her aunt. A terrible column of smoke had rolled in, and she noticed that one tongue of fire tried to pierce the smoke in the big chamber.

"Toney, I can't--I can't walk. Don't leave me--air--air--open the window!"

"Yes, it's too late for the door, Aunt Dove, we must come back--I'll open the window and call. Oh! they must be trying to save us now--don't leave go--stick tight to me: they will hear us." Toney felt a terrible weight on her; would her aunt give in? Here was one of the windows, the red curtain drawn across it, she pulled it back, a sofa was against it, she managed with superhuman effort to get her aunt on it, but it was terribly difficult.

"Aunt Dove, I'll open now or we shall be suffocated--only--there is danger--the draught--you know! I'll not leave you. Hold my jacket whilst I open." The window was locked, she could not find the bolt with that weight impeding her, she wrapped her hand round the towel and smashed the glass. Oh, the relief of the air! all danger seemed for a moment swallowed up in that relief. She was even able to unbolt the latch and pull up the sash.

"Help! help! Jim, ladders--help!" She saw a crowd below, some holding lanterns, some torches. She heard a fire engine gallop up, she even saw a shoot. "Here! here!" she called. Were they saved?

"Aunt Dove, they are coming. Put your head out of the window!" Toney said this because the roar behind them was increasing. She saw the tongue of fire very plainly now. Was there time? The engine was there. A great jet of water was playing on them, no, above them, they had not yet located the fire and it was coming, coming. Oh! the heat, the terrible heat! but now the fire escape was there, it was placed against the wall.

"Oh, Aunt Dove, don't give up--here they are!"

"Don't leave me! I can't move, Toney! the fire--look!"

"No, no, don't look." A ringing cheer, and a man was on the sill, having run up a ladder whilst the shoot was placed in position close to the window.

"Quick," he said, "not a moment to waste--one at a time." Toney did not hesitate, never thought of hesitating, as she dragged her aunt up to the sill. Her powerlessness had returned. The long shoot was there, it would have been so easy for Toney to step into it, but Aunt Dove was utterly unnerved--no one but Toney could rouse her.

"Help her, so--Aunt Dove, you are saved, it is not difficult; you slide down. Get in--you must--think of Uncle Evas." Lady Dove had clutched Toney so tightly that she could not, or would not, leave go. The fireman had to wrench her hand away by main force, and precious minutes were lost!

For God's sake--quick! It was certainly a very undignified retreat, but it was done; Lady Dove was saved!

But Toney, what of Toney? was there time? A great flare of light seemed suddenly visible behind her. The fireman had disappeared, and Toney could not linger another minute. She jumped on the sill and stood for a few seconds clinging to the sash above. Then she saw there was but one chance for her; she must let herself drop on to a kind of parapet below, and then clutch the iron rod that was now at her feet--if she did not miss it! In the lurid light she was seen by everybody--there was a breathless moment, then she let go--and without once hesitating clutched and retained the rod. A roar of admiration and horror mingled together was heard; then suddenly, like a lightning flash, another form had run up the ladder, and though it was not in right position Jim stretched out both arms and supported her, in what was an untenable position--because--Toney's sleeve had caught fire.