Fighting the Flames

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

  JOE CORNEY'S ADVENTURE WITH GHOSTS.

  When we said that the firemen returned to their respective stations, itmust not be supposed that the house which had been burnt was left inforlorn wretchedness. No; one of the firemen remained to watch over it,and guard against the upstarting of any sneaking spark that might havemanaged to conceal itself.

  The man selected for this duty was Joe Corney.

  Unfortunately for Joe, this was the only part of a fireman's duty thathe did not relish.

  Joe Corney was, both by nature and education, very superstitious. Hebelieved implicitly in ghosts, and knew an innumerable host of persons,male and female, who had seen people who said they had seen ghosts. Hewas too honest to say he had ever seen a ghost himself; but he had been"very near seein' wan two or three times," and he lived in perpetualexpectation and dread of meeting one face to face before he died. Joewas as brave as a lion, and faced danger, and sometimes even whatappeared to be certain death, with as much unflinching courage as thebravest of his comrades. Once, in particular, he had walked with thebranch in his hands along the burning roof of a tottering warehouse,near the docks, in order to gain a point from which he could play on theflames so as to prevent them spreading to the next warehouse, and socheck a fire which might have easily become one of the "great fires ofLondon."

  Joe was therefore a man who could not be easily frightened; yet Joetrembled in his shoes when he had the most distant prospect of meetingwith a ghost!

  There was no help for it, however. He had been appointed to watch theruin; and, being a man who cherished a strong sense of duty, he sethimself doggedly to make the most of his circumstances.

  It was past one o'clock when the fire was finally extinguished. A fewnight-birds and late revellers still hung about it, as if in the hopethat it would burst forth again, and afford them fresh excitement; butbefore two o'clock, everyone had gone away, and Joe was left alone withhis "preventer" and lantern. Even the policeman on the beat appeared toavoid him; for, although he passed the ruin at regular intervals in hisrounds, he did not stop at it beyond a few moments, to see that thefireman's lantern was burning and all right.

  "Corney, me lad," said Joe to himself, "it's bad luck has befallen yethis night; but face yer luck like a man now, and shame it."

  Encouraging himself thus, he grasped his preventer, and pulled about the_debris_ in various places of which he had some suspicion; but theengines had done their work so effectually that not a spark remained.Then Joe walked up and down, and in and out for an hour; studied thehalf-consumed pictures that still hung on the walls of one of the lowerrooms, which had not been completely destroyed; moralised on the direconfusion and ruin that could be accomplished in so short a space oftime; reflected on the probable condition of the unfortunates who hadbeen burnt out; on the mutability of human affairs in general, andwondered what his "owld mother" would think of him, if she saw him inhis forlorn situation.

  This latter thought caused his mind to revert to ghosts; but he wascomforted by hearing the slow, distant foot-fall of the policeman. Onit came, not unlike the supposed step of an unearthly visitant, untilthe guardian of the night stood revealed before him on the other side ofthe road.

  "It's a cowld night intirely," cried Corney.

  "It is," responded the policeman.

  "How goes the inimy?" inquired the fireman.

  "Just gone three," replied the other.

  The policeman's voice, although gruff, was good-humoured and hearty; buthe was evidently a strict disciplinarian, for he uttered no other word,and passed on.

  "Faix, I'm gettin' slaipy," remarked Joe to himself, with a loud yawn."I'll go and rest a bit."

  So saying, he re-entered the ruin, and with the aid of his lanternsought about for the least uncomfortable apartment on the ground floor.He selected one which was comparatively weather-tight. That is to say,only one of the windows had been dashed out, and the ceiling was entire,with the exception of a hole about four feet wide, through which thecharred beams above could be seen depicted against the black sky. Therewas about an inch of water on the floor; but this was a small matter,for Joe's boots were thick and strong. The door, too, had been burstoff its hinges, and lay on the floor; but Joe could raise this, andplace it in its original position.

  The room had been a parlour and there were several damaged printshanging on the walls, besides a quantity of detached paper hanging fromthem. Most of the furniture had been removed at the commencement of thefire; but a few broken articles remained, and one big old easy-chair,which had either been forgotten, or deemed unworthy of removal, by themen of the Salvage Corps. [See note 1.]

  Joe wheeled the chair to the fireplace--not that there was any fire init; on the contrary, it was choked up with fallen bricks and mortar, andthe hearth was flooded with water; but, as Joe remarked to himself, "itfelt more homelike an' sociable to sit wid wan's feet on the finder!"

  Having erected the door in front of its own doorway, Joe leaned hispreventer against the wall, placed his lantern on the chimney-piece, andsat down to meditate. He had not meditated long, when the steadydraught of air from the window at his back began to tell upon him.

  "Och! but it's a cowld wind," said he. "I'll try the other side.There's nothin' like facin' wan's inimies."

  Acting on this idea, he changed his position, turning his face to thewindow and his back to the door.

  "Well," he remarked on sitting down again, "there's about as muchdraught from the door; but, sure, ye've improved yer sitivation, Corney,for haven't ye the illigant prospect of over the way through the windy?"

  Not long after this, Joe's mind became much affected with ghostlymemories. This condition was aggravated by an intense desire to sleep,for the poor man had been hard worked that day, and stood much in needof repose. He frequently fell asleep, and frequently awoke. On fallingasleep, his helmet performed extremely undignified gyrations. Onawaking, he always started, opened his eyes very wide, looked roundinquiringly, then smiled, and resumed a more easy position. But, awakeor asleep, his thoughts ran always in the same channel.

  During one of those waking moments, Joe heard a sound which rooted himto his seat with horror; and would doubtless have caused his hair tostand on end, if the helmet would have allowed it. The sound was simpleenough in itself, however; being slight, slow, and regular, and was onlyhorrible in Joe's mind, because of his being utterly unable to accountfor it, or to conceive what it could be.

  Whatever the sound was, it banished sleep from his eyes for at least aquarter of an hour. At last, unable to stand the strain of uncertainty,he arose, drew his hatchet, took down his lantern, and, coughing loudlyand sternly--as though to say:

  "Have a care, I'm coming!"--removed the door and went cautiously intothe passage, where the sound appeared to come from. It did not cease onhis appearing; but went on slowly and steadily, and louder than before.It appeared to be at his very elbow; yet Joe could see nothing, and acold perspiration broke out on him.

  "Och! av I could only _see_ it!" he gasped.

  Just as he said this he _did_ see it, for a turn of his lantern revealedthe fact that a drop of water fell regularly from one of the burnt beamsupon a large sheet of paper which had been torn from the passage wall.This, resting on the irregular rubbish, formed a sort of drum, whichgave forth a hollow sound.

  "Ah, then, but ye _are_ a goose, Joe Corney, me boy!" said the fireman,as he turned away with an amiable smile and resumed his seat afterreplacing the door.

  About this time the wind began to rise, and came in irregular gusts. Ateach gust the door was blown from the wall an inch or so, and fell backwith a noise that invariably awoke Joe with a start. He looked roundeach time quickly; but as the door remained quiet he did not discoverthe cause of his alarm. After it had done this several times Joebecame, so to speak, desperately courageous.

  "Git out wid ye!" he cried angrily on being startled again, "wasn't thelast wan all a sham? an' sure ye're t
he same. Go 'long in pace--an'goodnight!"

  As he said this the over-taxed man fell asleep; at the same moment aheavy gust of wind drove the door in altogether, and dashed it down onhis head. Fortunately, being somewhat charred, the panel that struckhis helmet was driven out, so that Joe came by no greater damage thanthe fright, which caused his heart to bound into his throat, for hereally believed that the ghost had got him at last!

  Relieving himself of the door, which he laid on the floor lest it shouldplay him the same prank over again, Joe Corney once more settled himselfin the easy-chair and resolved to give his mind to meditation. Justthen the City clocks pealed forth the hour of four o'clock.

  This is perhaps the quietest hour of the twenty-four in London. Beforethis most of the latest revellers have gone home, and few of the earlyrisers are moving.

  There was one active mind at work at that hour, however--namely, that ofGorman--who, after recovering from the blow given him by Dale, went tohis own home on the banks of the Thames, in the unaristocratic localityof London Bridge.

  Gorman owned a small boat, and did various kinds of business with it.But Gorman's occupations were numerous and not definite. He waseverything by turns, and nothing long. When visible to the outward eye(and that wasn't often), his chief occupations were loafing about anddrinking. On the present occasion he drank a good deal more than usual,and lay down to sleep, vowing vengeance against firemen in general, andDale in particular.

  Two or three hours later he awoke, and leaving his house, crossed LondonBridge, and wended his way back to the scene of the fire without anydefinite intention, but with savage desires in his breast. He reachedit just at that point where Joe Corney had seated himself to meditate,as above described.

  Joe's powers of meditation were not great at any time. At thatparticular time they were exerted in vain, for his head began to swaybackward and forward and to either side, despite his best efforts to thecontrary.

  Waiting in the shadow of a doorway until the policeman should pass outof sight and hearing, and cautiously stepping over the debris thatencumbered the threshold of the burnt house, Gorman peeped into theroom, where the light told him that some one kept watch. Great was hissatisfaction and grim his smile when he saw that a stalwart fireman satthere apparently asleep. Being only able to see his back, he could notmake certain who it was,--but from the bulk of the man and breadth ofthe shoulders he concluded that it was Dale. Anyhow it was one of hisenemies, and that was sufficient, for Gorman's nature was of that brutalkind that he would risk his life any day in order to gratify hisvengeance, and it signified little to him which of his enemies fell inhis way, so long as it was one of them.

  Taking up a brick from the floor, he raised himself to his full height,and dashed it down on the head of the sleeping man. Just at that momentCorney's nodding head chanced to fall forward, and the brick only hitthe comb of his helmet, knocking it over his eyes. Next moment he wasgrappling with Gorman.

  As on previous occasions, Joe's heart had leaped to his throat, and thatthe ghost was upon him "at last" he had no manner of doubt; but nosooner did he feel the human arm of Gorman and behold his face than hisnative courage returned with a bound. He gave his antagonist a squeezethat nearly crushed his ribs together, and at the same time hurled himagainst the opposite wall. But Gorman was powerful and savage. Herecovered himself and sprang like a tiger on Joe, who received him in awarm embrace with an Irish yell!

  The struggle of the two strong men was for a few moments terrible, butnot doubtful, for Joe's muscles had been brought into splendid trainingat the gymnastics. He soon forced Gorman down on one knee; but at thesame moment a mass of brickwork which had been in a toppling condition,and was probably shaken down by the violence of their movements, fell onthe floor above, broke through it, and struck both men to the ground.

  Joe lay stunned and motionless for a few seconds, for a beam had hit himon the head; but Gorman leaped up and made off a moment or two beforethe entrance of the policeman, who had run back to the house on hearingJoe's war-whoop.

  It is needless to add that Joe spent the remainder of his vigil thatnight in an extremely wakeful condition, and that he gave a most graphicaccount of his adventure with the ghosts on his return to the station!

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  Note 1. The Salvage Corps is a body of men appointed by the insuranceoffices to save and protect goods at fires, and otherwise to watch overtheir interests. They wear a uniform and helmets, something like thoseof the firemen, and generally follow close in their wake--in their ownvans--when fires break out.