The Great Fire (3 page)

André could not move as fast as Sam. He hobbled in behind him, furious. “
I
should hide it! Give it to me!”

Paul Giraud burst in, breathless.

“The door is blocked, but we don't have long,” he gasped. “Sam, hide it, quickly!”

“But why – ?” began André.

His father took hold of André by the shoulders and said earnestly, “André, it's safer with Sam. Listen, we must not lose the necklace. It must be taken to Master Harrington now, or these thugs will steal it. Can I trust you to deliver it?”

Sam saw André's eyes light up.

“Yes! Of course!”

“Take Sam with you – “

Sam nodded eagerly, but André shook his head. “I don't need him!”

“Two will be safer,” his father insisted. “
You
must deliver it, as my son and representative. But let Sam carry the casket. He's less likely to be attacked and robbed.” He looked anxious for a moment. “Take the dog, too. You know the house, in Lothbury? The one with the lion carving?”

“Yes.”

“Go out through the yard, and along the backs of the houses and up past Goldsmiths' Hall. Then straight along to Lothbury.”

“I know the way!” André was impatient to be gone.

The banging from the blocked door was growing louder and louder.

“Stay together,” his father said urgently. “It's no distance, and well away from the fire. Deliver the casket and come straight back.”

Both boys nodded.

A crash, followed by screams and yells, told them that the door had been forced open.

Paul Giraud sprang up.

“Go now,” he whispered. “And remember – come straight home!”

4

Sam and André took Budge and went out through the back gate. They hurried along the alley. From the street came shouts and sounds of fighting.

“Papa will see them off,” said André fiercely. But Sam could tell he was anxious for his family.

To Sam's relief, no one took any notice of the two of them. The necklace was not heavy, but when he thought of its value – not
only the gold and diamonds, but Paul Giraud's exquisite workmanship – it became a weight he wished he didn't have to carry.

He was glad when André said, “There it is!” and he saw, ahead of them, a grand house with a lion's head carved above the door.

They walked up to the entrance.

André knocked and turned to Sam. “Give me the casket!” he commanded.

I wasn't going to keep it!
Sam thought indignantly. But he said nothing, and handed it over.

“You and Budge can wait outside,” said André, as the door opened.

Sam moved away, but not before he'd seen that the grand hall of Master Harrington's house was piled high with boxes, chests and crates.
Everyone is leaving the city
, he thought.
We'll all be camping in the fields together soon – even Mistress Harrington in her beautiful necklace.

“Did he like the necklace?” Sam asked, when André came out. He wished he could have seen the man's face when he opened the casket.

“Yes,” replied André. “He was very pleased, and thanked me. I told him about the rioters in our street and he sent a man to summon the militia.”

A distant crash and a sound like thunder caused cries of alarm in the street. The boys stared, awestruck, at the black smoke billowing up to the south.

“We'll go down to the Exchange,” said André. “We might see more from there.”

Sam knew he should protest. Master Giraud had told them to come straight back. And yet it wasn't far out of their way, and he too wanted to see what was happening.

“Come on, Budge,” he said.

They went down Bartholomew Lane and past the back of the Royal Exchange. They knew this area. The family's church was nearby.

“Down here!” called André. And instead of taking the way home through Poultry and Cheapside, he turned down one of the lanes that led south, towards the river.

Here the smoke was thicker. It stung their eyes. Budge strained at the lead and whimpered.

“We should go back,” said Sam. “We'll be covered in soot and your father will know.”
And André will make sure I get the blame,
he thought.

Suddenly flames sprang up into the sky ahead, followed by a tower of smoke that rolled down over the boys, black and choking. Shouts of alarm mingled with the crunch and crackle of the fire.

Then they heard screams: “Help! Help me!”

They stared through the thinning smoke. At the far end of a passageway a tall house was on fire. A woman with a baby in her arms was shouting from an upstairs window, and down below people had begun to gather.

“What can they do?” gasped André.

The boys hurried closer.

Now several people were holding up a large sheet. The woman hesitated, then – with a shriek – flung the baby out of the window. Sam saw it land in the sheet and be lifted up by a bystander.

By the time the woman had jumped down, and was holding the wailing baby, Sam and André were in the thick of the crowded street, among the firefighters.

“Don't just stand there!” a man shouted at Sam. He passed him an empty bucket.

“Stay, Budge,” commanded Sam. He took the bucket, handed it to a woman beside him, and seized the next one as it came along. André joined in on his other side.

Now they were part of a double chain of firefighters. Some men had dug into the street and opened a water pipe. From there water was passed quickly along the line, emptied, and the buckets sent back to the pipe. Everyone was busy.

“Keep going! Faster! Faster!”

Those at the front threw bucket after bucket of water into the burning house. But they were losing. Flames burst from the upper windows, where the water couldn't reach.

Sam was tired. They were getting nowhere. Then, just as he felt like giving up, a cheer rose from the firefighters. Some
militia men had appeared, shouting, “Make way! Make way!” Sam saw that they were pulling a cart with a water squirt on it.

Three men operated the squirt. Sam watched as it sucked up water from the pipe, and was then swivelled around to squirt a jet of water that went straight in through one of the blazing upper windows.

Buckets of water continued to be passed along, the squirt was refilled, and soon the fire was almost under control.

At last there were no more flames to be seen, although they could hear the never-ending roar of the fire all around. But the house – wet, blackened and smoking – was saved.

The men with the squirt moved on, and the firefighters threw down their buckets and cheered and hugged one another. Sam picked up Budge's lead as people began walking away.

André said, “We must get back. My father will be angry.”

They turned to go. At that moment flames shot from the windows of a house in front of them. Sam saw green and gold embroidered hangings flare up, blacken and fall.

“It was a fireball!”

A man and woman rushed out of the front door, the man shouting, “The room burst into flames around us! There was no
fire in our house before that. A fire-raiser has done this!”

The people in the street looked around, and Sam suddenly felt frightened. These people suspected arson – and foreigners.

“It's him!” a woman exclaimed. She pointed at André. “That French boy! I saw him! He threw something!”

“I didn't!” protested André. “I've been helping!” He looked terrified.

“He's lying! Arrest him!”

A man moved to seize André, but Sam sprang in front of him and shouted, “Leave him alone! We were firefighting! You saw us. We were in the chain!”

He turned to the others. “You know it wasn't him. You saw us passing buckets!”

It made no difference. They wanted a culprit. A foreigner. And André looked the part. Sam pushed past the man, grabbed André's arm, and pulled him out of reach.

“Quick!” he shouted. “Run, André! Run!”

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