Putting on Airs (11 page)

     
But by the third street, she began to become tired of it.  The smoke was beginning to bother her, and her coughs grew constant.  She was also becoming nervous of the recklessness of some, as Clarice had expressed, while one man near her swung his torch dangerously close to her hair.  She felt sure a spark burned her cheek.  So she expressed to the gentleman of her party that she would go back to the inn and sit with Clarice.  Mr. Archer bid his friend to go on ahead while he escorted Imogene back through the crowded streets and made sure she found the inn alright.

     
"What do you think of it, then?" he asked, his voice loud to speak over the crowds.

     
"It's certainly unlike anything else," Imogene replied in equal volume.  "The smoke is..."  A cough finished the remark for her.

     
"It never bothered Clarice so greatly, but then she is a little shorter.  The smoke does not accumulate about her head so much as it does ours."

     
Turning down the street, the crowds were wild and frantic, and it was hard to push through to their destination.  Mr. Archer held a firm grip on Imogene's hand to not separate as they approached the part of the street where the inn sat.

     
Fire billowed from the windows of the lower floor, and smoke poured from the floor above it.  Imogene felt the rush of the fire's heat course through her as panic struck, and she could see the same in Mr. Archer's face as he began to call Clarice's name.  Imogene searched the crowds for Clarice, also calling her name, but having little luck of seeing anyone other than those who surrounded her, many scrambling to procure water.

     
A scream issued from the burning inn, and Imogene felt a sudden burst of fearful tears well up in her eyes.  Both she and Mr. Archer cried out Clarice's name at the same time.  Looking desperately around, though she heard people proclaim the fear that someone was in the fire, no one moved forward.  Finally, she and Mr. Archer unknowingly rushed forward together and tried to find access into the building.  Seeing Imogene move with him, he took hold of her arm.

     
"Stand back, Ms. Cartwright!" he commanded.

     
"But how do you plan to find her?" Imogene asked.

     
He walked through the open door, but a sudden burst of flame sent him backward and out again.

     
"I think I have an idea," Imogene said, backing off the roofed porch.  "The fire has not reached the second floor yet.  If you can lift me onto the awning, I can reach the second floor window there."

     
"I cannot allow that.  I will get a gentleman to help me up.  There is no point in risking you."

     
"The awning may be too weak to support a grown man; it would be better that I go.  This is to save your ward, sir; you must do it."

     
His face clearly displayed duress at having to make such a decision.  "I will give you one minute to search, and then you must come back, or I will go in after you both."

     
"Agreed, sir."

     
With that, they spent no more time talking.  She stepped onto his gathered hands and held his shoulders for balance as he hoisted her up to the awning.  As she scrambled to drag herself up across the awning roof, he pushed as high as he could, until her entire self laid upon it.  But as she worked to crawl to the window, the awning creaked with her weight, and she got stuck several times as she tried to crawl in her dress.  She made it to the window with only little difficulty, however, and managed to land her feet safely inside.

     
The room was so filled with smoke, that she had difficulty finding her way in the fog.  She knew she would likely be better off crawling to escape the smoke, but did not want to waste time.  As soon as she mustered a fresh breath, she called for Clarice.  Hearing nothing, she attempted to find the stairs to head up to the top floor, as she recalled Clarice saying that was where she normally stayed at the inn. 

     
As she coughed and stumbled through the smoke, she felt a pull on her dress skirt.  She turned in the direction of the pull and fell to her knees to see who it was: It was an older woman simply dressed, lying just below a bed.

     
"Can you stand?" Imogene asked, her coughing settling somewhat as she lowered herself down to the woman.

     
"I twisted my ankle," the woman said, shaking her head.  "I had tried to leave too hastily..."

     
"Do you know a young lady called..."

     
"Ms. Clarice Archer?  Yes.  I ushered her from the room before I had hurt myself."

     
Imogene put the woman's arm around her neck as she helped her rise.  "Do you know if she made it out?"

     
She then faintly heard her name being called.  Stumbling to the smoke, back to the window, she saw Clarice standing with Mr. Archer, her face red with crying.  Imogene helped the woman over the window ledge and onto the awning, which was creaking dangerously now, and was hot with the lower level's fires.

     
"You must crawl," Imogene said, staying inside the window.  "If we both go together, it could collapse."

     
"You had better go first, miss.  You might not make it."

     
Imogene had barely heard the comment, as she was collecting her breath to shout to Mr. Archer: "She is coming down first—be sure to catch her!"

     
He set himself just below the awning, and the woman carefully slid herself along until her outstretched arms reached out to Mr. Archer, who was able to help her down.

     
"Now, Imogene!" he shouted once the woman was on firm ground.

     
As Imogene stood straddling the window ledge, her fear finally caught up with her.  She could see the blazes reaching up along the sides of the awning, even reaching dangerously close to Mr. Archer as determined people continued pouring buckets of water.  She seemed very certain that as she slowly stepped her other foot onto the awning, it would break and fall, tossing her into the fire. 

     
"
Come now
!" Mr. Archer shouted again.

      She began to fee
l dizzy as she let her form melt into a crawling position.  The roof shingles heated up against her palms as she inched along, the awning yawning and creaking with increasing weakness.  It seemed an eternity of smoke until she stretched out her hands and felt Mr. Archer's fingers lock with hers.  He pulled her closer, then hooked his hands under her arms to pull her off completely.  Immediately after, the awning collapsed, the fire consuming it.  Clarice embraced Imogene so hard, that she felt convinced any smoke remaining in her lungs was squeezed out.

     
The water supply was finally coming in the appropriate quantities to subdue the fire, and especially with the condition of the ladies, Mr. Archer did not feel obliged to remain and assist.  Mr. Ashcroft caught up with them by the end of the street and offered to procure a carriage, but Imogene insisted they walk, desiring the fresh air to thoroughly purge her lungs.

     
The walk was slow and silent, but for Clarice's diminishing sobs and continued apologies.

     
"If you knew I was not there, you would not have gone," she said.

     
"It is not your fault," Imogene tried to assure her.  "You had gotten lost in the crowds.  After all, there was still someone in there."

     
"Poor, dear Mrs. Jenkins...if I had looked to see if she followed me..."

     
"Enough," Mr. Archer said.  "Do not blame yourself, Clarice.  All is well now."  He reached his arm across to where Clarice stood on the other side of Imogene, putting his arm around both of them.  "Everyone is well.  There is nothing to fear or feel sorry for."

     
Imogene reported nothing of the incident to her sister.  But as she had previously promised to give an account of the bonfire experience, she told what happened up until the burning inn.  She took a short bath as soon as they returned to the cottage, to dispel the soot stains, then went directly after to bed.  Clarice thanked Imogene for her attempted service to herself, and for her successful rescue of her friend Mrs. Jenkins.  To her own surprise, Imogene burst into a laugh.

     
"What is it?"

     
The laughter began to shake her all over, releasing all the tension of the day.  She calmed herself enough to say, "You...You stayed in the inn because the fire made you nervous."  Her laughter erupted further, and she clamped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle it.

     
It took a moment for Clarice to absorb the initial shock of her friend's sudden laughter, then as she realized the irony, she joined in to laugh as well, until tears of merriment streamed down their faces, dissolving every last grain of fear remaining in the pits of their stomachs.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The following morning, just after breakfast, Imogene located a servant to pass her letter to for mailing, and at the same moment, the servant was seeking her out to announce that she had a visitor.  Imogene thought it strange that anyone should visit her in a strange city, and directed herself to the parlor immediately.  Mrs. Jenkins stood there, already conversing with Clarice, leaning on a cane with her ankle wrapped in a bandage.  She was overjoyed to see Imogene walk in the room, and hobbled as quickly as she could to greet her.

      "Ms. Cartwright!" she exclaimed.  "Ms. Archer has informed me of your name, and I hear she's told you that I'm Mrs. Jenkins, and I simply had to meet you to thank you!"

     
"Please sit," Imogene said, directing her to an empty chair. 

     
"Ms. Archer had offered me a seat as well, but I simply could not sit until I could see you and thank you."  She sat herself in a chair, barely taking her eyes off Imogene.  "Thank you so much for helping me from that building; I don't know what would have become of me!  I could not believe when I saw someone coming through the window, just when I thought I would choke on that smoke.  I thought at first it may have been an angel ‘directing me to the light', as they say, and when I heard you call for Clarice, I was sure you must have been looking for her.  I thought you would run back out, and rightfully so, as it was a horrible situation for someone as young as yourself to be in, but when you helped me up, I just could not believe my good fortune that you came to find me!"

     
Imogene could not believe the rate at which the words were pouring out of the woman's mouth, and tried to keep her amusement in check.  "It really was not any trouble, Mrs. Jenkins.  Being in there already, I could not in good conscience leave you behind."

     
"I simply could not believe it.  And of all the able-bodied men being down in that street, you were the one to come up!"

     
"That was my discretion," Imogene said, trying to defend Mr. Archer.  "I did not think the awning would support a grown man, and there was no other admittance into the building."

     
"Well, I really could not believe my good fortune.  Lord, listen to me speaking of good fortune when the inn was burnt down!"  She laughed.  "But it really was good fortune; I certainly am not one to go down with the ship!"

     
"Do you have a place to stay?" Clarice asked.  "The inn was your home."

     
"My brother is a fisherman near the coast, and has invited me to stay with him and his wife and help out with the housework until the inn is reconstructed.  She just had her first baby, so it is certainly a good time for them to have a little extra help around."  Then, with barely even a second to catch her breath, she changed the subject.  "I do hope your dress was not completely spoiled in that," she said to Imogene.  "You are dressed so fine now, it must have been a fine dress, and it may have been ruined on my account."

     
Imogene could not contain her laughter, and released a slight chuckle.  "The state of my dress is hardly important in comparison to your life, Mrs. Jenkins.  My dress's state has by no means been weighing on my mind."

     
"If you entrust it to me, I shall clean it up back to new.  I am fine with washing out gowns; it is how I became housekeeper of the inn.  There is not any stain I cannot get out of any cloth.  Why, I remember one time a young child went tree-climbing and got sap all over his trousers, and I got every bit out!"

     
"In that case, I would not entrust my dress to anyone less."

     
"Fine!  That is fine indeed!  It is the least I can do to repay you.  Would you imagine that when I first woke this morning, I thought to offer you a free stay at the inn!  A stay at the inn!  Why, there is no inn!  I could not believe my own ridiculousness at the thought, and I rather laughed, and my brother thought I had gone mad.  It was actually his wife's idea that I offer to clean your dress, and it seemed so obvious an idea, and it is rather perfect."

     
If a servant had not entered then, Imogene felt certain that Mrs. Jenkins could have gone on talking another full minute.  It was a letter from Emmeline, which she had no qualms in opening then and there, as she was sure Clarice would like to hear its contents.  And at the mention of her sister, Mrs. Jenkins immediately became curious.

           
My dear sister,

                 
Please come home immediately.

     
A lump instantly caught in her throat, and she refrained from reading aloud.

           
I am sorry I do not know how to ease into these matters as you do, but you must

           
come home at once.  Father has fallen sick, and has not been out of bed for three

           
days.  I am so scared that I can hardly write.  Only please come home as soon as

           
possible.

                 
Your sister,

                       
Emmeline

     
Imogene wasted no time in following her sister's instructions.  The Archers offered to leave with her, not thinking that she should leave on her own with such distressing news.  However, Imogene took pains in insisting that they stay, assuring them that she would ride in company, and knowing how infrequently Mr. Ashcroft delighted in their friendship.