our neighbours, there’s not a moment to be lost!”
“Where! where! what’s the matter?” exclaimed Mr. Deane, starting. “Why, Jack, what have you been about?”
Jack repeated what he had just said; and before his father had time to make any answer, he had leaped out of the window and across the garden, and down the lane by which he had previously gone. As he ran through the narrow streets, he every now and then shouted, “Fire! fire!” By the time he had reached the sheds, they were blazing furiously. The wind had also carried some sparks to an outhouse nearer the cottages, and already the people were running to and fro; women with babies in their arms, roused out of their sleep, rushing from the doors, and boys hallooing and men shouting, and yet none doing any thing to stop the progress of the flames. Jack, seeing that unless some one took the lead all the neighbouring buildings might catch fire, shouted out, “Form a line, my lads, down to the river, and you women bring your ‘pancheons,’ pails, kettles, any thing that will hold water; and now, lads, pass them along, and we will soon put out this fire. Now, you lads, tear away the burning dry thatch from the tops of those cottages; never mind a little singeing. You won’t have a house standing in the place if you don’t look sharp about it!”
Jack, as he spoke, set an example, by doing himself as he directed others to do. As soon as the people saw what was necessary to be done to stop the progress of the flames, they worked willingly enough. Jack leaped up to the top of a wall, and having buckets passed to him, threw the water over the burning roof. Several of the most active of the men did the same, while the women and children passed the buckets along with considerable rapidity. It was very doubtful, however, whether their efforts would avail in checking the progress of the fire. Jack continued to encourage them with shouts and cheers, and by this time many more people having arrived with buckets, he began to hope that his efforts would not be without success. The shed in which the fire had originated, and two or three hovels, had already been burned down, while the outbuilding which communicated with the warehouse was already in flames: on this, therefore, Jack now directed the people to bestow all their efforts. A loud cheer at length announced to those who were arriving on the spot, the owner of the warehouse among them, that Jack’s efforts had been crowned with success, and that the fire was extinguished. Jack, with his hands blackened and burned, and his clothes and hair singed, was now called for by the crowd, and before he was well aware what they were about to do, he found himself seated in a chair, and carried home in triumph, just at the break of the early summer morning. Jack, however, was more burned and injured than he had at first supposed; so much so, that his father forbore making any remark on his absence during the night. On awaking a few hours afterwards—for he had been immediately put into his bed, and doctored by the careful hands of his mother and sister Kate—he found Dr. Nathaniel Deane seated by his side. The latter having felt his pulse, and complimented him on his achievements, “No, no, Cousin Nat,” he answered; “if you knew all, you would not praise me. I have acted like an idiot, or worse than an idiot.”
“I am glad to find that no great harm has been done except to your poor hands, my lad. It will be a fortnight, or nearly so, before you will be able to use them,” answered the doctor. “You will have time to stay quiet and get wisdom, if that is what you want.”
One of Jack’s first visitors was Mr. Strelley.
“I have come to thank you, Mr. John Deane, for saving my property,” he said, as he took his seat by his side. “You have not only benefited me very greatly, but I can scarcely tell you how many poor families would have been thrown out of work if my factory had been destroyed.”
Jack of course made a suitable answer.
“I just did what I saw ought to be done,” said Jack. “Really, Mr. Strelley, I do not think you have anything to thank me for.”
“There may be two opinions even on a matter of that sort,” answered the manufacturer; “and, at all events, I wish you would tell me how I can best serve you. I wish to do it for your father’s sake, as well as for your own. We are old friends, you know; so do not stand on ceremony, at all events.”
The occurrence of the night had made Jack more than ever anxious to leave home for a time; for he felt that even should his father not question him as to the cause of his absence during it, he was bound to tell him. He therefore explained fully to Mr. Strelley what were his wishes with regard to becoming a cattle-dealer and drover.
“If you really have made up your mind on the subject, I will most gladly forward your views,” said Mr. Strelley. “You know my trusty old head drover, Will Brinsmead, as you took an excursion with him last year, I rather think. He will start in a few days in charge of a large drove now grazing in Colwick Park and adjoining meadows, and dispose of them at Stourbridge Fair. With the price he obtains he is to buy Scotch cattle at Saint Faith’s, near Norwich; for, as you know, the Highland drovers bring their lean beasts to that place. I have a correspondent at Norwich, my old friend Mr. Gournay, the manufacturer, and several merchants; and Brinsmead will have to transact some business with them. Now you could not do better than serve your apprenticeship under him, and act as his clerk. You will learn in that way how to do business on a large scale, and that, I take it, will be your aim as a young man of spirit. You would not be long content to follow at the tails of oxen, and keep them moving on the straight road.”
“The very thing above all things I should like,” exclaimed Jack. “I hope my Cousin Nat will get my hands all to rights in a few days; and however my father might have objected to my starting with strangers, I am nearly sure he will agree to the plan you so kindly propose.”
Mr. Strelley’s offer was duly placed before Mr. Deane.
“If Jack remains much longer idle at home, he will be getting into mischief, if he has not got into it already,” he thought to himself. “I have no reason to be ashamed of my boy, and perhaps it will be my own fault if I have cause to be at any future time. Cousin Nat is a man of judgment, and he asserts always that there is more in Jack than any of us suppose; and that if we allow him to follow the bent of his own inclinations, he will be sure to work his way up in the world, even though we let him begin at the bottom of the ladder. Some people want help, and don’t get on well without it; others are all the better for being left alone, and help only makes them idle.”
The assurance which Jack received that he would be allowed at length to carry out his much-cherished plan, contributed not a little to his restoration, and the burns on his hands and legs healed more rapidly than Cousin Nat had predicted.
Squire Harwood and his daughter had returned to the Grange the day after the occurrence which has been narrated; and as soon as Jack was able to leave the house, although not fit for a journey, he expressed his intention of riding over to pay a farewell visit to his friends. Often when left in solitude he had conjured up a vision of the sweet countenance of Alethea, and he could not help longing once more to see the reality. His proposal met with every encouragement from his family.
“If any body can civilise our boy Jack, Miss Harwood can,” observed Mrs. Deane to her husband.
“I doubt whether she will think it worth while to make the attempt,” observed Mr. Deane. “Jack is in no way suited to her, whatever he may flatter himself is the case. However, let the lad go; he can come to no harm, at all events; and Mistress Alethea may give him a taste for better society than he seems to have a fancy for.”
Chapter Five.
Jack’s Visit to Harwood Grange—Is urged to assist in the Jacobite Plot.
Jack accordingly donned his best suit, and his sister Polly put his hair, which had been considerably singed by the fire, in as good order as it was capable of. His left hand was still in a sling, but he had no difficulty in mounting his horse with the aid of his right, and managing him as well as most people could with two hands at liberty. With a note from his father on business, and numerous messages from his mother and sisters, he