Fighting the Flames

Fighting the Flames, by R.M.
Ballantyne

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Title: Fighting the Flames
Author: R.M. Ballantyne
Release Date: November 6, 2007 [EBook #23380]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIGHTING
THE FLAMES ***

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Fighting the Flames, by R.M. Ballantyne.
CHAPTER ONE.
HOW THE FIGHT BEGAN.

One's own fireside is, to all well-regulated minds, a pleasant subject of
contemplation when one is absent, and a source of deep gratification
when present.
Especially may this be said to be the case in a cold, raw night in
November, when mankind has a tendency to become chronically cross
out of doors, and nature, generally, looks lugubrious; for, just in
proportion as the exterior world grows miserably chill, the world "at
home," with its blazing gas, its drawn curtains, its crackling fires, and
its beaming smiles, becomes doubly comfortable and cosy.
Even James Auberly, pompous, stern, and ungenial though he was,
appeared to entertain some such thoughts, as he sat by his own fireside,
one such night, in his elegant mansion in Beverly Square, Euston Road,
London; and smiled grimly over the top of the Times newspaper at the
fire.
Mr Auberly always smiled--when he condescended to smile--grimly.
He seldom laughed; when he did so he did it grimly too. In fact, he was
a grim man altogether; a gaunt, cadaverous, tall, careworn, middle-aged
man--also a great one. There could be no question as to that; for,
besides being possessed of wealth, which, in the opinion of some minds,
constitutes greatness, he was chairman of a railway company, and
might have changed situations with the charwoman who attended the
head office of the same without much difference being felt. He was also
a director of several other companies, which, fortunately for them, did
not appear to require much direction in the conduct of their affairs.
Mr Auberly was also leader of the fashion, in his own circle, and an
oracle among his own parasites; but, strange to say, he was nobody
whatever in any other sphere. Cabmen, it is true, appeared to have an
immense respect for him on first acquaintance, for his gold rings and
chains bespoke wealth, and he was a man of commanding presence, but
their respect never outlived a first engagement. Cabmen seldom
touched their hats to Mr Auberly on receiving their fare; they often
parted from him with a smile as grim as his own, and once a peculiarly
daring member of the fraternity was heard blandly to request him to
step again into the cab, and he would drive him the "nine hundred and

ninety-ninth part of an inch that was still doo on the odd sixpence."
That generous man even went further, and, when his fare walked away
without making a reply, he shouted after him that "if he'd only do 'im
the honour to come back, he'd throw in a inch an' a half extra for
nothink." But Mr Auberly was inexorable.
"Louisa, dear," said Mr Auberly, recovering from the grim smile which
had indicated his appreciation of his own fireside, "pour me out another
cup of coffee, and then you had better run away to bed. It is getting
late."
"Yes, papa," replied a little dark-eyed, dark-haired girl, laying down
her book and jumping up to obey the command.
It may be added that she was also dark-dressed, for Mr Auberly had
become a widower and his child motherless only six months before.
While Louisa was pouring out the coffee, her father rose and turned his
back to the fire.
It was really interesting, almost awe-inspiring, to behold Mr Auberly
rise; he was so very tall, and so exceedingly straight. So remarkably
perpendicular was he, so rigidly upright, that a hearty but somewhat
rude sea-captain, with whom he once had business transactions, said to
his mate on one occasion that he believed Mr Auberly must have been
born with a handspike lashed to his backbone. Yes, he was wonderfully
upright, and it would have been downright madness to have doubted
the uprightness of the spirit which dwelt in such a body; so nobody did
doubt it, of course, except a few jaundiced and sceptical folk, who
never could be got to believe anything.
"Good-night, my love," said Mr Auberly, as the child placed the coffee
beside his chair, and then advanced, somewhat timidly, and held up her
cheek to be kissed.
The upright man stooped, and there was