Chapter 11 #2
Elizabeth awoke with a start, her senses muddled from deep sleep.
The room at her aunt and uncle’s London house was just as it had been when she had crawled into bed that night.
But there was a faint odour of smoke. She turned to the bedside table and looked at the candlestick.
She had not knocked over the candle, and she had blown it out.
“Wake up! Fire!”
Elizabeth’s senses were jolted into wakefulness.
She sprang from the bed and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders.
She went to open the door of her bedroom, but when she grabbed for the handle, it seared her palm.
Elizabeth jumped back, yelping in pain at the burn.
The house was burning down, and she would be trapped in this room if she could not find a way to get past the door.
“Someone help!” she heard a faint cry.
Elizabeth wrapped her hand in the end of her shawl and tried the door once more. Though the heat began to come through her shawl, she opened it and stepped through. She gasped in horror. Small flames were licking at the carpets and the window hangings.
“Someone, please!” the voice came again.
Elizabeth took one glance backward, searching the darkened room awash with an eerie orange glow.
There, on the desk, were her writing instruments and the half-finished manuscript.
And on the mantel were her father’s silhouette and the magnifying glass.
There was not much time, for she could not delay long and still hope to escape the flames.
She could rush back in and gather all of those things in her arms, or she could search for the plaintive voice calling for help. She could not do both.
With a cry that held no words, only pain, Elizabeth turned from the room. Covering her mouth and nose with the end of her shawl, she rushed toward the voice she had heard a moment before. “Help me!” came the sound again.
“Where are you?!” Elizabeth called above the crackle of flames swirling up the main stairs. “Hello?”
“I’m in here!” came the voice. Elizabeth turned to her right and saw little Hattie crouched in the corner near the window. The pole holding up the window covering had fallen down, effectively trapping her in the corner in a little alcove that overlooked the street.
Elizabeth took off her shawl and ran toward the maid.
Poor girl. She could not have been more than five and ten, and she looked terrified, frozen in place by the threat of flames.
Elizabeth took one of the vases from one of the side tables.
She took out the flowers, wilted by the heat, but was relieved to see that there was still water in the basin.
She took off her shawl, wet it with the water from the vase, and began beating back the flames from around Hattie’s feet.
“Jump over the pole!” Elizabeth instructed her.
Her lungs burned from the smoke, as if they were cooking from the inside out.
She tried not to take deep breaths, but her lungs screamed for air.
Hattie shook her head, too afraid to jump.
Elizabeth rushed into the flames, grabbed Hattie’s hand, and pulled her out.
Then they were running down the hall, back the way she had come, to head down the back stairs toward the servants’ entrance.
The smoke and flames were not as intense on this side of the house, but it was only a matter of time.
Somewhere in the house, a bottle of spirits exploded, sending Hattie into fits of sobbing.
Sparks rained down on them as they hurried down the back stairwell and came to the side servant’s door.
Elizabeth wrapped her arm around Hattie as they came into the kitchen and headed down the hall toward the exit.
The corridor was quickly filling with smoke, now that the deserted kitchens were no longer cut off from the fire in the main part of the house.
Elizabeth tried the handle first, and when she felt it was not hot, turned the knob and pushed on the door with all her might.
It did not move. There must have been something blocking the exit. Elizabeth looked around frantically, searching the below-stairs kitchen for any sign of an escape route. She found it in the dimly lit hall — a small window just large enough for them to squeeze through.
“Stand aside,” she told Hattie. The girl did not argue, only doubled over in a coughing fit.
Elizabeth found an iron pan in the kitchen, then threw it at the window with all her might.
Tinkling glass accompanied the shatter, and she quickly knocked the sharp shards still left in the casing so they would not cut themselves as they shimmied out.
“You first,” Elizabeth said, choking on the increasing amount of smoke in the kitchen.
Hattie shook her head, but there was no time for fear. Elizabeth put a chair under the window and practically forced Hattie to climb out the small opening.
“There! Someone is crawling out of that window!” Elizabeth heard a male voice raise the alarm, and suddenly, Hattie was pulled the rest of the way out into the side street and out of harm’s way.
“Please help me!” Elizabeth called to the unseen voice. She climbed up on the chair and put her hands through first, pulling herself up so her hips rested on the pane. A second later, two sets of strong arms pulled her out into the cold night air.
“Are you alright, Miss?” The footman who had helped pull them out of the burning house held her about the waist, very welcome support.
Elizabeth would have answered, but she doubled over and began choking from all the smoke she had inhaled. She tried to cover herself as best she could, having lost her shawl to the inferno. She was quite indecent, she now realised, wearing only her nightgown, no slippers, and no dressing gown.
“Where is Lizzy? Lizzy!” Mrs Gardiner was yelling from the front of the house. “Oh, my heavens, our poor Lizzy! Do not tell me she is lost!”
“I am here,” Elizabeth croaked, her throat raw from the smoke.
She stumbled forward, and the footman stepped forward to steady her.
“Thank you,” she told him with all her heart.
She hurried to her aunt and uncle, who were looking up at the house as the flames engulfed the structure.
Fear suddenly overwhelmed her heart. Had everyone got out in time?
“Aunt, I am here!” she called again, her voice gravelly.
When her aunt saw her, she dissolved into tears. “Oh, my dear Lizzy! Thank the Lord you escaped. My goodness, we thought you were lost to us forever.”
“No, I am quite well,” Elizabeth said. It took all her strength not to collapse to the ground, but her aunt need not hear that. “What of the children? And the rest of the household?”
“Yes, everyone is accounted for now,” Mrs Gardiner said. She wrapped her arms around Elizabeth and refused to let go. “Thank the Lord you are alive.”
Her uncle and the children appeared from around the corner of the house, and they all ran to embrace Elizabeth. Relief shot through her as she embraced her young cousins, none of them looking the worse for wear. Thankfully, they had escaped the fire with a greater margin of safety than herself.
All the household gathered together in the street to look up at the house as it burned, illuminating the scene even more brilliantly than the full moon that shone overhead. Everything they had, everything they had known for the last decade, was gone.
And yet, no one was seriously injured. The fire brigade had come, but there was little to be done. They tried to save the surrounding houses, but there was little else that could be done to save her uncle’s home, nor the home to the left.
Someone tapped Elizabeth on the shoulder, and she turned to see the tearful cook standing with her arm around Hattie. “I thank you for getting my girl out in time, Miss Bennet. I shall never be able to repay you.”
“Are you alright, Hattie?”
“Yes, I only twisted my ankle when I tried to get out of the way of that pole holding up the window covering falling down and trying to knock me on the head. Such a fool I was! I meant to open the window and call for help, but if not for you, I would have been cooked instead. It is thanks to you that I am alive at all.” She sobered.
“I will never forget your kindness or your bravery. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you are alive and well, Hattie,” Elizabeth said. “Thank goodness we all got out in time.”
Her uncle growled as he looked over at the house to the left of the Gardiner abode.
It was in even worse condition than theirs, but thankfully, it seemed the whole of that family had escaped with their lives as well.
“That poor fool. I tried to warn him that his chimney was stopped up. Now we have both paid for his folly, and I thank God we did not pay with our lives.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat.
Of course. How many times had they come out of their front door and been ambushed by smoke?
Their neighbours’ carelessness had cost them dearly.
Thankfully, no one had lost their lives that night, but there was much that could not be replaced.
Elizabeth walked away, wrapping her arms around her middle to chase away the chill quickly trying to settle into her bones. The spring night was bitter indeed.
“Come along, Lizzy.” Mrs Gardiner came up to her as she watched the fire brigade finish putting out the last of the flames.
“We are going to a lodging house for the night.” She sighed and held out a hand to Elizabeth.
“We will come back in the morning and see if there is anything we might salvage, but it looks like there will be little that is worth saving. We shall have to rebuild.”
Elizabeth let out a choked sob as she stood. She had lost all her dresses, all the books she had collected over the years, and her manuscript. All the months and hours of hard work had been eradicated in a matter of moments.
More painful still, she had lost her father’s silhouette and his magnifying glass. Everything else could be replaced. Those were priceless remembrances that she could never get back.
Mrs Gardiner put an arm around her and led her away.
Numbly, Elizabeth went with her, grateful that she need not choose where to go.
Even following her aunt seemed almost impossible.
She closed her eyes, fighting back tears.
She was grateful they had all survived, but the losses suffered that night were almost more than she could bear.