Carina looked up at the first floor. It was vivid with light and the flames were clearly visible in several rooms. She looked up further and saw that the second floor was also beginning to blaze.

Only the nurseries were dark and she found herself praying that Lord Lynche would find Dipa and bring him down to safety.

“It has got a real hold!” someone said beside her.

She suddenly realised that Lord Lynche might not return and that he and Dipa might be trapped up there!

A woman was being carried through the outer door by two men. It was Matthews.

“Her Ladyship! I can’t leave her Ladyship!” she sobbed.

“You can’t get to her,” one of the men said kindly, “the first floor is ablaze.”

The fire engine, small and somehow pitifully inadequate, came trundling round the side of The Castle. They had not waited to harness the horses. The grooms and men from the estate were pushing it and they started to unravel the long hose down to the lake.

But Carina’s eyes were on The Castle.

There was a sudden light in the nursery window and paralysed she watched the first flames creeping slowly up the curtains. Frantically she ran forward to shake Major Hartley’s arm as he stood on the steps giving orders.

“Lord Lynche – he is trying to save a child on the top floor!” she said. “Help him! Surely someone can help him!”

“No one can get up the stairs,” Major Hartley answered.

Carina gave a little cry.

“You must bring ladders!” But even as she spoke she knew that no ladder could reach the nurseries.

“Do something,” she pleaded, “do something to save them!”

Then she saw Lord Lynche come round the side of The Castle, with Dipa in his arms covered by a blanket.

She ran towards them and her feet seemed to have wings.

Lord Lynche’s hand was burned. His hair and eyebrows were scorched and there was a wound on one cheek. But his lips were smiling.

“You are safe! You are safe!”

The tears were pouring down Carina’s face, but her voice was lilting with joy and her eyes were like stars.

“We are safe,” Lord Lynche repeated.

Dipa threw back the blanket.

“Fire! Pretty, pretty fire!” he cried excitedly.

But Carina did not hear him.

Lord Lynche’s arms were around her and she hid her eyes, blind with tears, against his shoulder.

Chapter 12

“Lady Lynche by Sir Thomas Lawrence,” Carina said aloud and inscribed the words in her neat upright handwriting on the notepad that she held on her lap.

Then she looked up and smiled at the footman holding the picture.

“It’s less damaged than some of the others,” she said.

“Oh, it’ll be all right, miss,” he answered. “It’s mostly smoke, but those firemen did a power of damage to the tapestries with their hoses.”