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that two of the frigates could not enter it. These were left at the

anchorage, and, on arriving at the mouth of the harbour, the

_Tiger_, Sir Robert Holmes's flagship, was also obliged to anchor,

and he came on board the _Fan Fan_, on which he hoisted his flag.

The captains of the other ships came on board, and it was arranged

that the _Pembroke_, which had but a small draught of water, should

enter at once with the five fire-ships.

The attack was completely successful. Two of the fire-ships grappled

with the men-of-war and burnt them, while three great merchantmen

were destroyed by the others. Then the boats dashed into the fleet,

and, with the exception of four or five merchantmen and four

privateers, who took refuge in a creek, defended by a battery, the

whole of the hundred and seventy merchantmen, the smallest of which

was not less than 200 tons burden, and all heavily laden, were

burned.

The next day, Sir Robert Holmes landed eleven companies of troops on

the Island of Schonevelt and burnt Bandaris, its principal town, with

its magazines and store-houses, causing a loss to the Dutch,

according to their own admission, of six million guilders. This, and

the loss of the great Fleet, inflicted a very heavy blow upon the

commerce of Holland. The _Fan Fan_ had been hit again by a shot from

one of the batteries, and, on her rejoining the Fleet, Prince Rupert

determined to send her to England so that she could be thoroughly

repaired and fitted out again. Cyril's orders were to take her to

Chatham, and to hand her over to the dockyard authorities.

"I do not think the Dutch will come out and fight us again this

autumn, Sir Cyril, so you can take your ease in London as it pleases

you. We are now halfway through August, and it will probably be at

least a month after your arrival before the _Fan Fan_ is fit for sea

again. It may be a good deal longer than that, for they are busy upon

the repairs of the ships sent home after the battle, and will hardly

take any hands off these to put on to the _Fan Fan_. In October we

shall all be coming home again, so that, until next spring, it is

hardly likely that there will be aught doing."

Cyril accordingly returned to London. The wind was contrary, and it

was not until the last day of August that he dropped anchor in the

Medway. After spending a night at Chatham, he posted up to London the

next morning, and, finding convenient chambers in the Savoy, he

installed himself there, and then proceeded to the house of the Earl

of Wisbech, to whom he was the bearer of a letter from his son.

Finding that the Earl and his family were down at his place near

Sevenoaks, he went into the City, and spent the evening at Captain

Dave's, having ordered his servant to pack a small valise, and bring

it with the two horses in the morning. He had gone to bed but an hour

when he was awoke by John Wilkes knocking at his door.

"There is a great fire burning not far off, Sir Cyril. A man who ran

past told me it was in Pudding Lane, at the top of Fish Street. The

Captain is getting up, and is going out to see it; for, with such dry

weather as we have been having, there is no saying how far it may

go."

Cyril sprang out of his bed and dressed. Captain Dave, accustomed to

slip on his clothes in a hurry, was waiting for him, and, with John

Wilkes, they sallied out. There was a broad glare of light in the

sky, and the bells of many of the churches were ringing out the

fire-alarm. As they passed, many people put their heads out from

windows and asked where the fire was. In five minutes they approached

the scene. A dozen houses were blazing fiercely, while, from those

near, the inhabitants were busily removing their valuables. The Fire

Companies, with their buckets, were already at work, and lines of men

were formed down to the river and were passing along buckets from

hand to hand. Well-nigh half the water was spilt, however, before it

arrived at the fire, and, in the face of such a body of flame, it

seemed to make no impression whatever.

"They might as well attempt to pump out a leaky ship with a child's

squirt," the Captain said. "The fire will burn itself out, and we

must pray heaven that the wind drops altogether; 'tis not strong, but

it will suffice to carry the flames across these narrow streets. 'Tis

lucky that it is from the east, so there is little fear that it will

travel in our direction."

They learnt that the fire had begun in the house of Faryner, the

King's baker, though none knew how it had got alight. It was not long

before the flames leapt across the lane, five or six houses catching

fire almost at the same moment. A cry of dismay broke from the crowd,

and the fright of the neighbours increased. Half-clad women hurried

from their houses, carrying their babes, and dragging their younger

children out. Men staggered along with trunks of clothing and

valuables. Many wrung their hands helplessly, while the City Watch

guarded the streets leading to Pudding Lane, so as to prevent thieves

and vagabonds from taking advantage of the confusion to plunder.

With great rapidity the flames spread from house to house. A portion

of Fish Street was already invaded, and the Church of St. Magnus in

danger. The fears of the people increased in proportion to the

advance of the conflagration. The whole neighbourhood was now

alarmed, and, in all the streets round, people were beginning to

remove their goods. The river seemed to be regarded by all as the

safest place of refuge. The boats from the various landing-places had

already come up, and these were doing a thriving trade by taking the

frightened people, with what goods they carried, to lighters and

ships moored in the river.

The lines of men passing buckets had long since broken up, it being

too evident that their efforts were not of the slightest avail. The

wind had, in the last two hours, rapidly increased in strength, and

was carrying the burning embers far and wide.

Cyril and his companions had, after satisfying their first curiosity,

set to work to assist the fugitives, by aiding them to carry down

their goods to the waterside. Cyril was now between eighteen and

nineteen, and had grown into a powerful, young fellow, having, since

he recovered from the Plague, grown fast and widened out greatly. He

was able to shoulder heavy trunks, and to carry them down without

difficulty.

By six o'clock, however, all were exhausted by their labours, and

Captain Dave's proposal, that they should go back and get breakfast

and have a wash, was at once agreed to.

At this time the greater part of Fish Street was in flames, the

Church of St. Magnus had fallen, and the flames had spread to many of

the streets and alleys running west. The houses on the Bridge were

blazing.

"Well, father, what is the news?" Nellie exclaimed, as they entered.

"What have you been doing? You are all blackened, like the men who

carry out the coals from the ships. I never saw such figures."

"We have been helping people to carry their goods down to the water,

Nellie. The news is bad. The fire is a terrible one."

"That we can see, father. Mother and I were at the window for hours

after you left, and the whole sky seemed ablaze. Do you think that

there is any danger of its coming here?"

"The wind is taking the flames the other way, Nellie, but in spite of

that I think that there is danger. The heat is so great that the

houses catch on this side, and we saw, as we came back, that it had

travelled eastwards. Truly, I believe that if the wind keeps on as it

is at present, the whole City will be destroyed. However, we will

have a wash first and then some breakfast, of which we are sorely in

need. Then we can talk over what had best be done."

Little was said during breakfast. The apprentices had already been

out, and so excited were they at the scenes they had witnessed that

they had difficulty in preserving their usual quiet and submissive

demeanour. Captain Dave was wearied with his unwonted exertions. Mrs.

Dowsett and Nellie both looked pale and anxious, and Cyril and John

Wilkes were oppressed by the terrible scene of destruction and the

widespread misery they had witnessed.

When breakfast was over, Captain Dave ordered the apprentices on no

account to leave the premises. They were to put up the shutters at

once, and then to await orders.

"What do you think we had better do, Cyril?" he said, when the boys

had left the room.

"I should say that you had certainly better go on board a ship,

Captain Dave. There is time to move now quietly, and to get many

things taken on board, but if there were a swift change of wind the

flames would come down so suddenly that you would have no time to

save anything. Do you know of a captain who would receive you?"

"Certainly; I know of half a dozen."

"Then the first thing is to secure a boat before they are all taken

up."

"I will go down to the stairs at once."

"Then I should say, John, you had better go off with Captain Dave,

and, as soon as he has arranged with one of the captains, come back

to shore. Let the waterman lie off in the stream, for if the flames

come this way there will be a rush for boats, and people will not

stop to ask to whom they belong. It will be better still to take one

of the apprentices with you, leave him at the stairs till you return,

and then tie up to a ship till we hail him."

"That will be the best plan," Captain Dave said. "Now, wife, you and

Nellie and the maid had best set to work at once packing up all your

best clothes and such other things as you may think most valuable. We

shall have time, I hope, to make many trips."

"While you are away, I will go along the street and see whether the

fire is making any way in this direction," Cyril said. "Of course if

it's coming slowly you will have time to take away a great many

things. And we may even hope that it may not come here at all."

Taking one of the apprentices, Captain Dave and John at once started

for the waterside, while Cyril made his way westward.

Already, people were bringing down their goods from most of the

houses. Some acted as if they believed that if they took the goods

out of the houses they would be safe, and great piles of articles of

all kinds almost blocked the road. Weeping women and frightened

children sat on these piles as if to guard them. Some stood at their

doors wringing their hands helplessly; others were already starting

eastward laden with bundles and boxes, occasionally looking round as

if to bid farewell to their homes. Many of the men seemed even more

confused and frightened than the women, running hither and thither

without purpose, shouting, gesticulating, and seeming almost

distraught with fear and grief.

Cyril had not gone far when he saw that the houses on both sides of

the street, at the further end, were already in flames. He was

obliged to advance with great caution, for many people were

recklessly throwing goods of all kinds from the windows, regardless

of whom they might fall upon, and without thought of how they were to

be carried away. He went on until close to the fire, and stood for a

time watching. The noise was bewildering. Mingled with the roar of

the flames, the crackling of woodwork, and the heavy crashes that

told of the fall of roofs or walls, was the clang of the alarm-bells,

shouts, cries, and screams. The fire spread steadily, but with none

of the rapidity with which he had seen it fly along from house to

house on the other side of the conflagration. The houses, however,

were largely composed of wood. The balconies generally caught first,

and the fire crept along under the roofs, and sometimes a shower of

tiles, and a burst of flames, showed that it had advanced there,

while the lower portion of the house was still intact.

"Is it coming, Cyril?" Mrs. Dowsett asked, when he returned.

"It is coming steadily," he said, "and can be stopped by nothing

short of a miracle. Can I help you in any way?"

"No," she said; "we have packed as many things as can possibly be

carried. It is well that your things are all at your lodging, Cyril,

and beyond the risk of this danger."

"It would have mattered little about them," he said. "I could have

replaced them easily enough. That is but a question of money. And

now, in the first place, I will get the trunks and bundles you have

packed downstairs. That will save time."

Assisted by the apprentice and Nellie, Cyril got all the things

downstairs.

"How long have we, do you think?" Nellie asked.

"I should say that in three hours the fire will be here," he said.

"It may be checked a little at the cross lanes; but I fear that three

hours is all we can hope for."

Just as they had finished taking down the trunks, Captain Dave and

John Wilkes arrived.

"I have arranged the affair," the former said. "My old friend, Dick

Watson, will take us in his ship; she lies but a hundred yards from

the stairs. Now, get on your mantle and hood, Nellie, and bring your

mother and maid down."

The three women were soon at the foot of the stairs, and Mrs.

Dowsett's face showed signs of tears; but, though pale, she was quiet

and calm, and the servant, a stout wench, had gained confidence from

her mistress's example. As soon as they were ready, the three men

each shouldered a trunk. The servant and the apprentice carried one

between them. Mrs. Dowsett and her daughter took as many bundles as

they could carry. It was but five minutes' walk down to the stairs.

The boat was lying twenty yards out in the stream, fastened up to a

lighter, with the apprentice and waterman on board. It came at once

alongside, and in five minutes they reached the _Good Venture_. As

soon as the women had ascended the accommodation ladder, some sailors

ran down and helped to carry up the trunks.