He dashed on to the front room and tried the door. It was fastened
within. He rapped and called and shouted aloud. In vain! The dwellers
within were dead, or dead asleep, it was impossible to tell which. He
threw himself down upon the floor to get a breath of air, and then arose
and renewed his clamor at the door. He thumped, kicked, shrieked, hoping
either to force the door or awake the sleepers. Still in vain! The
silence of death reigned within the chamber; while volumes of lurid red
smoke began to fill the passage. This change in the color of the smoke
warned the brave young boy that the flames were approaching. At this
moment, too, he heard a crash, a fall, and a sudden roaring up of the
fire, somewhere near at hand. Again in frantic agony he renewed his
assault upon the door. This time it was suddenly torn open by the boys
within.
And horrors of horrors! what a scene met his appalled gaze! One portion
of the floor of the room had fallen in, and the flames were rushing up
through the aperture from the gulf of fire beneath. The two boys,
standing at the open door, were spell-bound in a sort of panic.
"What is it?" asked one of them, as if uncertain whether this were
reality or nightmare.
"It is fire! Don't you see! Quick! Seize each of you a blanket! Wrap
yourselves up and follow me! Stoop near the floor when you want to
breathe! Shut your eyes and mouths when the flame blows too near. Now
then!"
It is marvelous how quickly we can understand and execute when we are in
mortal peril. Ishmael was instantly understood and obeyed. The lads
quick as lightning caught up blankets, enveloped themselves, and rushed
from the sinking room.
It was well! In another moment the whole floor, with a great, sobbing
creak, swayed, gave way, and fell into the burning gulf of fire below.
The flames with a horrible roar rushed up, filling the upper space
where the chamber floor had been; seizing on the window-shutters,
mantel-piece, door-frames, and all the timbers attached to the walls;
and finally streaming out into the passage as if in pursuit of the
flying boys.
They hurried down the hot and suffocating staircase to the first floor,
where the fire raged with the utmost fury. Here the flames were bursting
from the burning wing through every crevice into the passage. Ishmael,
in his wet woollen clothes, and the boys in their blankets, dashed for
the last flight of stairs--keeping their eyes shut to save their sight,
and their lips closed to save their lungs--and so reached the ground
floor.
Here a wall of flame barred their exit through the front door; but they
turned and made their escape through the back one.