“I thank you for your quick thinking, miss. You saved lives, and it will not soon be forgotten. We must save as much of the village as we can. I fear it has more wood construction than is the fashion these days, for obvious reasons. Most villages are mostly stone, but that just means they had a big fire earlier.”
“How may I help, sir?”
“I am Mr Sutton. I own the stables you see burning there. We do not have much time. The fire is almost certain to burn everything from here to the post office. It is stone, as are a few buildings on the other side, so we hope we can stop it there, if we are prepared to fight it.”
Elizabeth, thinking he was not merely looking for agreement with his every utterance, looked at the fire and the post office, and had to hope the man knew his business.
“I have seen only two largish fires before—nothing remotely near this scale—so I cannot pretend to know. How can we help?”
“I hate to ask, but if you will walk down the street with your friend and see if there is anybody who needs your aid, it might save me from sending the men. Pray do not put yourself in any danger. Come running for one of us if you need help.”
“We will not let you down!”
Gathering Margaret, Elizabeth did as the gentleman suggested, walking down the street to seek signs of trouble. The women had made only a hundred yards when somebody yelled for help inside one of the buildings. Looking around, she saw the men prepared to fight the fire, so she ran closer.
Inside the smoking house, a young boy yelled for help between fits of coughing. Next to him lay another young boy, perhaps ten years old, who was unconscious. She could not know if he was alive or dead, so Elizabeth asked the other boy, “Are your parents, or someone else, upstairs?”
“No, ma’am. They's off seeing to the cattle.”
Elizabeth nodded and took hold of one of the unconscious boy’s arms. Margaret grabbed the other, and together they dragged him out the door. They emerged just as one of the older boys from the orchard arrived. They checked as best they could that the unconscious boy still breathed, and then Elizabeth charged them to take him by barrow with all haste to the orchard. The boys reported that Mrs Wythe and the village wives had things well in hand but needed supplies.
Some of the boys joined the men to ensure the fire stopped at the post office, while several younger ones directed Margaret and Elizabeth to houses that might hold the needed materials. Half an hour later, they were off with the barrows to help the women in the orchard.
Another goodwife came by carrying bedding and blankets, and Elizabeth redirected some of the younger children who had wandered into town against all sense to help her carry them out to the orchard.
By the time Elizabeth and Margaret made a complete circuit of the village two or three times, the men had just barely contained the fire. As they hoped, the stone building of the post office stopped the flames from spreading farther, and all thatremained was to watch what little remained of the north end of the village burn the rest of the way to the ground, clear the mess, and start rebuilding their lives.
Elizabeth and Margaret decided to return to the orchard to see if they could help, since there was not anything else they could do in the village, and they hoped the air was better.
On the way, Elizabeth looked up and sighed in resignation. Black clouds scuttled across the sky. She had weathered enough storms to know what they portended, so she merely pointed at the sky for Margaret.
Both ladies were coughing ferociously, and a quick glance told Elizabeth they were covered in soot from head to toe. She reckoned they would soon be covered with black mud instead, which would be decidedly worse, but there was nothing to be done.
Mr Wythe and Mr Sutton climbed slowly down from the roof of the post office and joined the young ladies.
“Well done, Lizzy. You handled that beautifully. No doubt you and my Margaret saved lives today.”
“I do not know about that, Mr Wythe—but I believe we helped. Have you heard from the orchard?”
“Yes, there are some four-dozen people there, some badly injured, and a few… well… beyond injury. Few were caught directly in the fires, so serious burns among the survivors are mercifully rare, but those that exist are bad enough. They mostly suffer terribly from smoke. There were those you two sorted out, and quite a number from other places in the village. The smoke here will be too thick for them to recover for some days, even if they had houses. Even those that did not burn will be barely habitable for a time.”
Mr Sutton added, “In past times, I would welcome all in my stables, but now… well… Mr Vernon is the village patron, but hisestate is four hours in a good coach, and longer with a farm cart. There is no way they could get warm and dry before everyone is soaked to the bone.”
Mr Wythe sighed, frowning. “You know my thoughts, but is the gentleman at home?”
“I happen to know he is not. I do not know him well, but his reputation is sterling. His sister is there with her companion, but the housekeeper is a good woman, while the butler and steward are very competent. I do not think they would turn us away.”
Mr Wythe asked, “What say you, Lizzy? Pemberley is ten miles, a mere two hours for the slowest cart. You could walk it in three hours. Would Mr Darcy take in refugees?”
Elizabeth was all astonishment at the suggestion, and the implication she could answer it; but the question was serious and deserved an equal reply. It seemed the entire world conspired to set her life on its head. She might as well meet her fate head-on.
“I happen to know Mr Darcy reasonably well. I am certain he would not mind housing people for a fortnight or two until matters are arranged. He would not even question the action, and would probably be offended we even held the discussion. We must gather those who need to go, and be off. There is much to do, and little time to do it in. You see the clouds, I presume. Do you have sufficient horses and equipage to get everyone safely to Pemberley?”
“That is the spirit, Lizzy. We discussed it, and I believe it can be done. I can get six adults and more children inside our carriage, and a few more on top. The rest must take farm carts or a few surviving carriages. The most injured must lie in the carts.”
“Can you gentlemen get everyone loaded and moving?”
Both men laughed. “We are men—we can do anything.”
