DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0171
A GREAT FIRE AT NIGHT.
163
of a conventual-looking building, and one which commands
a view of the burning premises. Here we stand in safety
from the crowd in an open space, with a snow-covered
garden stretching out before us, a snow and ice covered
fountain in its centre, around which grow fruit trees, their
leafless branches now rising black and gaunt against the
burning crimson of the sky. Right opposite to us is the
house in flames;—keen tongues of fire flickering and pant-
ing through the windows, through the chimneys, through
the roofj—clouds of sparks hurrying across the night sky
like a dust of stars;—volumes of red smoke ever and anon
obscuring everything. Amid the shouts of men, the
neighing of horses, and the rush of the flames, you hear the
shower of pattering tiles, as they rain down from the roof;
the flames hiss and dance and curl like mad fiery snakes;
the air grows warm, and the snow melts from the burning
roofs, running off in streams. Why are no engines at play
on this side of the burning pile ? Why do the flames here
conquer all before them unopposed ?
There is a shout of “ The engines ! the engines \” and
soldiers drive away the crowd out of the court-yard—us
among the number. In thunder the fire-engines, followed
by heavy drays with their tuns of water. People willing
to aid in pumping are allowed to re-enter the court.
I had met Lina and Meta Amsel, with their man-servant,
in the crowd, and joining their party, sent home poor old
Fraulein Sanchen to inform Isabel that I should probably not
return till the morning, as we were intending to see every-
thing that was to be seen, and it appeared probable that the
fire would yet last for hours. The poor old Fraulein was
most thankful to be dismissed, as the grief over her cloak,
which the crowd had despoiled of its cape, had for the last
horn’ quite overpowered all her interest in the fire.
The Amsels and I had fled into the corner of a narrow
163
of a conventual-looking building, and one which commands
a view of the burning premises. Here we stand in safety
from the crowd in an open space, with a snow-covered
garden stretching out before us, a snow and ice covered
fountain in its centre, around which grow fruit trees, their
leafless branches now rising black and gaunt against the
burning crimson of the sky. Right opposite to us is the
house in flames;—keen tongues of fire flickering and pant-
ing through the windows, through the chimneys, through
the roofj—clouds of sparks hurrying across the night sky
like a dust of stars;—volumes of red smoke ever and anon
obscuring everything. Amid the shouts of men, the
neighing of horses, and the rush of the flames, you hear the
shower of pattering tiles, as they rain down from the roof;
the flames hiss and dance and curl like mad fiery snakes;
the air grows warm, and the snow melts from the burning
roofs, running off in streams. Why are no engines at play
on this side of the burning pile ? Why do the flames here
conquer all before them unopposed ?
There is a shout of “ The engines ! the engines \” and
soldiers drive away the crowd out of the court-yard—us
among the number. In thunder the fire-engines, followed
by heavy drays with their tuns of water. People willing
to aid in pumping are allowed to re-enter the court.
I had met Lina and Meta Amsel, with their man-servant,
in the crowd, and joining their party, sent home poor old
Fraulein Sanchen to inform Isabel that I should probably not
return till the morning, as we were intending to see every-
thing that was to be seen, and it appeared probable that the
fire would yet last for hours. The poor old Fraulein was
most thankful to be dismissed, as the grief over her cloak,
which the crowd had despoiled of its cape, had for the last
horn’ quite overpowered all her interest in the fire.
The Amsels and I had fled into the corner of a narrow