Tess of the Storm Country

Saying this, Swipes tumbled into bed, and sank into a stupor.

* * * * * The cry of "Fire!" rang out upon the night air, startling Dan Jordan and Teola Graves. The volunteer fire companies were gathering from all parts of the town, and Dan stepped on to the Rectory veranda as a hose-cart rolled by. In an instant he was back in the drawing-room.

"Sweetheart, sweetheart," said he, with a strangling kiss upon Teola's pale lips, "I am sure it's our fraternity house. I must go, dear. I must, I must!"

He pressed her to him again, bounded through the door and was gone.

"Dan! Dan!" exclaimed Teola. "Dan, come back! I have something to tell you ... I'm so--afraid--so afraid!"

* * * * * Teola stood watching the yellow flames kiss the sky. The whole campus gleamed under the lurid glare of the fraternity fire; the light in the heavens told her that it was no ordinary conflagration.

Until the day of her death she would not forget that night. She was longing to hear one word from Dan or Frederick. Her world seemed charged with hideous forces hitherto unfelt. Teola sickened, and waited. If Dan would only come back!

* * * * * The very moment after he had fallen asleep, it seemed to Swipes, Shorts was pulling him out of bed, and the room was full of smoke. Spuddy was sleeping in the next chamber, and the first sound came to him in a haze-like dream. He thought he heard a roar of thunder, and rain descending upon the roof. Never mind. He was safe in bed, and had just escaped expulsion from his fraternity. As he rubbed his aching head, a dazed resolution took form in his brain. He would never get drunk again--never--never! Then the fumes of the wine brought visions of bright-colored dresses, of pretty faces and tender loving arms, such as his father had told him to beware of. He would toss such joys from him, if it brought him--Spuddy groaned, turned in bed, and tried to wake up. But to wake up was to realize his disgrace. He groaned again, a sharp pain ripping through his head. He heard the sound of voices--he was dreaming, of course; the wine floated fantastic visions again through his misty brain, relieving it of the effort of thinking. Then Shorts' voice rang in his ear.

"For the love of God, Spud, get up! The house is on fire, and we're boxed in this cupola like rats in a trap."

Spuddy sprang out of bed. The thunder he had dreamed of was the roar of the fire in the walls of the great house. The rain descending on the roof was the water being thrown from the long fire-hose. A strong stream of ice-cold water suddenly broke the window, driving Swipes against the wall. He whimpered drunkenly.