He paused and waited a response; but the silenqe was unbroken.
"They won't risk it, ma'am; life is sweet," said the overseer, coming
down from his post.
"I cannot give them up, Grainger! I cannot for their poor mother's sake!
Go up once more! Shout forth that I offer liberty to any slave with his
wife and children--if he will save those boys!" said Mrs. Middleton.
Once more the overseer mounted his post and thundered forth the
proclamation: "Freedom to any slave with his wife and children, who will rescue the
Burghe boys!"
Again he paused for a response; and nothing but dead silence followed.
"I tell you they won't run the risk, ma'am! Life is sweeter than
anything else in this world!" said the overseer, coming down.
"And the children will perish horribly in the fire and their mother will
go raving mad; for I know I should in her place!" cried Mrs. Middleton,
wildly wringing her hands, and gazing in helpless anguish upon the
burning house.
"And oh! poor fellows! they are such naughty boys that they will go
right from this fire to the other one!" cried Claudia Merlin, running
up, burying her face in her aunt's gown, and beginning to sob.
"Oh! oh! oh! that I should live to see such a horrible sight! to stand
here and gaze at that burning building and know those boys are perishing
inside and not be able to help them. Oh! oh! oh!" And here Mrs.
Middleton broke into shrieks and cries in which she was joined by all
the women and children present.
"Professor! I can't stand this any longer! I'll do it!" exclaimed
Ishmael.
"Do what?" asked the astonished artist.
"Get those boys out."
"You will kill yourself for nothing."
"No, there's a chance of saving them, professor, and I'll risk it!" said
Ishmael, preparing for a start.
"You are mad; you shall not do it!" exclaimed the professor, seizing the
boy and holding him fast.
"Let me go, professor! Let me go, I tell you! Let me go, then! Israel
Putman would have done it, and so will I!" cried Ishmael, struggling,
breaking away, and dashing into the burning building.
"But George Washington wouldn't, you run mad maniac, he would have had
more prudence!" yelled the professor, beside himself with grief and
terror.
But Ishmael was out of hearing. He dashed into the front hall, and up
the main staircase, through volumes of smoke that rolled down and nearly
suffocated him. Ishmael's excellent memory stood him in good stead now.
He recollected to have read that people passing through burning houses
filled with smoke must keep their heads as near the floor as possible,
in order to breathe. So when he reached the first landing, where the
fire in the wing was at its worst, and the smoke was too dense to be
inhaled at all, he ducked his head quite low, and ran through the hall
and up the second flight of stairs to the floor upon which the boys
slept.