We Two Part 56

"We must find it," said Raeburn, his lips forming into the curve of resoluteness which they were wont to a.s.sume when any difficulty arose to be grappled with. "What has become of the bairn?"

"A nurse came up and claimed it and was overwhelmingly grateful to you for your rescue. She had put the child to bed early and had gone for a walk in the gardens. Oh, look, how the fire is spreading!"

"The scaffolding is terribly against saving it, and the wind is high, too," said Raeburn, scanning the place all over with his keen eyes.

Then, as an idea seemed to strike him, he suddenly hurried forward once more, and Erica saw him speaking to two fire brigade men. In another minute the soldiers motioned the crowd further back, Raeburn rejoined Erica, and, picking up her portmanteau, took her across the road to the steps of a neighboring hotel. "I've suggested that they should cut down the scaffolding," he said; "it is the only chance of saving the place."

The whole of the woodwork was now on fire; to cut it down was a somewhat dangerous task, but the men worked gallantly, and in a few minutes the huge blazing frame, with its poles and cross poles, ladders and platforms, swayed, quivered, then fell forward with a crash into the garden beyond.

Raeburn had, as usual, attracted to himself the persons most worth talking to in the crowd, a shrewd-looking inhabitant of Innsbruck, spectacled and somewhat sallow, but with a face which was full of intellect. He learned that, although no one could speak positively as to the origin of the fire, it was more than probable that it had been no mere accident. The very Sunday before, at exactly the same hour, a large factory had been entirely destroyed by fire, and it needed no very deep thinker to discover that a Sunday evening, when every one would be out-of-doors keeping holiday, and the fire brigade men scattered and hard to summon, was the very time for incendiarism. They learned much from the shrewd citizen about the general condition of the place, which seemed outwardly too peaceful and prosperous for such wild and senseless outbreaks.

"If, as seems probable, this is the act of some crazy socialist, he has unwittingly done harm to the cause of reform in general," said Raeburn to Erica when the informant had pa.s.sed on. "Those papers for Hasenbalg were important ones, and, if laid hold of by unfriendly hands, might do untold harm. Socialism is the most foolish system on earth. Inevitably it turns to this sort of violence when the uneducated have seized on its main idea.

"After all, I believe they will save the house," said Erica. "Just look at those men on the top, how splendidly they are working!"

It was, in truth, a grand, though a very horrible sight to see the dark forms toiling away, hewing down the burning rafters with an absolute disregard to their personal safety. These were not firemen, but volunteers chimney-sweeps, as one of the crowd informed Raeburn and it was in the main owing to their exertions that the fire was at length extinguished.

After the excitement was over, they went into the neighboring hotel, where there was some difficulty in obtaining rooms, as all the burned-out people had taken refuge there. However, the utmost hospitality and friendliness prevailed, and even hungry Englishmen, cheated of their dinner, were patient for once, while the overtaxed waiters hurried to and fro, preparing for the second and quite unexpected table d'hote. Everyone had something to tell either of his escape or his losses. One lady had seen her night gown thrown out of the window, and had managed adroitly to catch it; some one else on rushing up to find his purse had been deluged by the fire engine, and Raeburn's story of the little German boy excited great interest. The visitors were inclined to make a hero of him. Once, when he had left the room, Erica heard a discussion about him with no little amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Who is the very tall, white-haired man?"

"The man who saved the child? I believe he must be the Bishop of Steneborough; he is traveling in the Tyrol, I know, and I'm sure that man is a somebody. So much dignity, and such power over everybody!

Didn't you see the way the captain of the fire brigade deferred to him?"

"Well, now I think of it," replied the other, "he has an earnest, devotional sort of face, perhaps you're right. I'll speak to him when he comes back. Ah!" in a lower voice, "there he is! And Confound it! He's got no gaiters! Goodbye to my visions of life-long friendship and a comfortable living for d.i.c.k!"

In spite of his anxiety about the lost packet, Raeburn laughed heartily over Erica's account of this conversation. He had obtained leave to search the deserted hotel, and a little before ten o'clock they made their way across the square, over planks and charred rafters, broken gla.s.s, and pools of water, which were hard to steer through in the darkness. The fire was now quite out, and they were beginning to move the furniture in again, but the place had been entirely dismantled, and looked eerie and forlorn. On the staircase was a decapitated statue, and broken and crushed plants were strewn about. Erica's room was quite bare of furniture, nor could she find any of the things she wanted. The pen with which she had been writing lay on the floor, and also a j.a.panese fan soaked with water, but neither of these were very serviceable articles to a person bereft of every toilet requisite.

"I shall have to lie down tonight like a dog, and get up in the morning, and shake myself," she said, laughing.

And probably a good many people in Innsbruck were that evening in like case.

Notwithstanding the discomforts, however, and the past excitement, that was the first night in which Erica had really slept since the day at Fiesole, the first night unbroken by dreams about Brian, unhaunted by that blanched, rigid face, which had stamped its image indelibly upon her brain in the amphitheatre. She awoke, too, without that almost intolerable dread of the coming day which had hitherto made early morning hateful to her. It was everything to have an actual and practicable duty ready to hand, everything to have a busy present which would crowd out past and future, if only for a few hours. Also, the disaster had its comic side. Through the thin part.i.tion she could hear distinctly the complaints of the people in the next room.

"How ARE we to get on with no soap? Do go and see if James has any."

Then came steps in the pa.s.sage, and a loud knock at the opposite door.

"James!"

No answer. A furiously loud second knock.

"JAMES!"

"What's the matter? Another fire?"

"Have you any soap?"

"Any what?" sleepily.

"Any SOAP?"

Apparently James was not the happy possessor of that necessary of life for the steps retreated, and the bell was violently rung.

"'What, no soap?'" exclaimed Erica, laughing; "'so he died, and she very imprudently married the barber, etc.'"

The chamber maid came to answer the bell.

"Send some one to the nearest shop, please, and get me some soap."

"And a sponge," said another.

"And a brush and comb," said the first.

"Oh! And some hair pins," echoed the other. "Why, destruction! She doesn't understand a word! What's the German for soap? Give me 'Travel Talk.'"

"It's burned."

"Well, then, show her the soap dish! Brush your hair with your hands!

This is something between Drum Crambo and Mulberry Bush!"

The whole day was not unlike a fatiguing game of hide-and-seek, and had it not been for Raeburn's great anxiety, it would have been exceedingly amusing. Everything was now inside the hotel again, but of course in the wildest confusion. The personal property of the visitors was placed, as it came to light, in the hall porter's little room; but things were to be met with in all directions. At ten o'clock, one of Raeburn's boots was found on the third story; in the evening, its fellow turned up in the entrance hall. Distracted tourists were to be seen in all directions, burrowing under heaps of clothes, or vainly opening cupboards and drawers, and the delight of finding even the most trifling possession was great. For hours Raeburn and Erica searched for the lost papers in vain. At length, in the evening, the coat was found; but, alas! The pocket was empty.

"The envelope must have been taken out," said Erica. "Was it directed?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Raeburn. "But, after all, there is still a chance that it may have tumbled out as the coat fell. If so, we may find it elsewhere. I've great faith in the honesty of these Innsbruck people, notwithstanding the craze of some of them that property is theft. That worthy man yesterday was right, I expect. I hear that the proprietor had had a threatening letter not long ago to this effect:

"'Sein thun unser Dreissig, Schuren thun wir fleissig.

Dem Armen that's nichts Dem Reichen schad's nichts.

That is tolerably unmistakable, I think. I'll have it in next week's 'Idol,' with an article on the folly of socialism."

Judicious offers of reward failed to bring the papers to light, and Raeburn was so much vexed about it, and so determined to search every nook and cranny of the hotel, that it was hard to get him away even for meals. Erica could not help feeling that it was hard that the brief days of relaxation he had allowed himself should be so entirely spoiled.

"Now, if I were a model daughter, I should dream where to find the thing," she said, laughingly, as she wished him good night.

She did not dream at all, but she was up as soon as it was light, searching once more with minute faithfulness in every part of the hotel.

At length she came to a room piled from floor to ceiling with linen, blankets, and coverlets.

"Have all these been shaken?" she asked of the maid servant who had been helping her.

"Well, not shaken, I think," owned the servant. "We were in a hurry, you see; but they are all fresh folded."

"It might have slipped into one of them," said Erica. "Help me to shake every one of these, and I will give you two gulden."

It was hard work, and somewhat hopeless work; but Erica set about it with all the earnestness and thoroughness of her Raeburn nature, and at length came her reward. At the very bottom of the huge pile they came to a counterpane, and, as they opened it, out fell the large, thick envelope directed to Herr Hasenbalg. With a cry of joy, Erica s.n.a.t.c.hed it up, pressed double the reward into the hands of the delighted servant, and flew in search of her father. She found him groping in a great heap of miscellaneous goods in the porter's room.

"I've found my razors," he said, looking up, "and every twopenny-halfpenny thing out of my traveling bag; but the papers, of course, are nowhere."

"What's your definition of 'nowhere'?" asked Erica, laughingly covering his eyes while she slipped the envelope into his hand.