The Richest Heart

Chapter 38

A cloud of black smoke made the boy choke. The darkness of night met his waking eyes. But as he sat up in bed, he could see a brilliant, red glow beneath his closed door. There was a loud rushing noise in the house, like the sound of a strong wind. With a worried cry, the boy jumped out of bed and ran barefoot across the warm floor. He reached for the handle of his door, but as soon as he touched the brass knob he jerked back in fear and pain. It was too hot to turn. The house was on fire and any moment now the flames would burst through the walls.

The boy's head started spinning with fear. What was he supposed to do? Where were his mother and father? Why hadn't they come up to get him? He couldn't wait for an answer. He had to leave now or he would never escape.

Running to the other side of the room, the boy threw the window open. Outside a tall tree stood, reaching its rescuing limbs toward him. The boy scrambled out in a hurry, just as the flames roared into his room and rushed toward the window. The whole house was being destroyed.

Crying in terror, the boy wove through the tree's limbs and then tried to drop down toward the ground. But right then, one of the branches caught the child's nightshirt. The collar ripped partway and then stuck fast.

"No!" the boy sobbed. He twisted and jerked, trying to get free. In a matter of moments, the fire would leap to the tree and begin burning it too. His shirt began to tear.

With a desperate cry Emiline sat up in bed. Her heart was fluttering like a trapped bird in a cage. As the dream faded away, her memories all pieced themselves together. The nightshirt hanging in the tree, the burnt house... everything she had read about and discovered that summer had come back to form that one, awful dream. But it seemed so lifelike, so possible. Emma hid her face in her hands and let out a whimper.

"He couldn't have been trapped there!" she cried to herself. "He just couldn't have! That would have been horrible!" But the whole thing was horrible. And whether he had been trapped in the tree or somewhere else, there was no way to make the story end better. The whole family had died; Mrs. Bufford had said so.

A knock on the door made the girl give a startled shriek. Susan opened the door with a curious look.

"Emma, are you alright?" she asked. Emiline blushed and tried to laugh.

"...Yes..." she answered hesitantly. "I...guess you startled me." She couldn't admit that she had been scared by a nightmare. That was silly. Only little girls got scared about their dreams. Susan laughed and came into the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Can you believe we've been here a whole week?" she asked, walking over to the window. Her voice didn't sound very happy. "And we have a whole week left," she added in a miserable tone. Emiline turned those words around in her mind. She wasn't sure if she was delighted about them or if she was disappointed by them. She did like the city. She had seen so many wonderful things. But after seven days, she was beginning to feel like a fish out of water. Susan let out a sigh and then turned away from the window.

"Oh well," she said, determined to be more cheerful. "At least I have you here! And we'll have so much fun this next week! Don't forget, we're going to watch a play tonight! And in a couple of days, I think the neighbors are going to throw a party! We'll have enough to do. We won't miss the country too much, will we?" Emiline smiled excitedly and got out of bed.

"I don't think so," she answered. "What kind of play are we going to Susan? Will it be dramatic and wonderful?"

"I'm sure it will be! But I'm not going to spoil it for you. You'll just have to wait and see!" Susan answered. Emiline couldn't wait for evening to come. An hour before they had to leave, she spent extra time getting herself ready. She drowned herself in Anastasia's rich perfume and chose a sapphire necklace to match her flimsy blue dress.