The fire was made; the five members were dismissed. Granny Rigby and Miss Thorby were alone in the church.

Granny Rigby said rather uncertainly:

‘It’s just to frighten them, like. You don’t mean to burn Ethel!’

‘Precious as Ethel is to you, she is more precious to me,’ Miss Thorby said curtly. ‘When they come out, take Ethel. Leave the woman to me.’

‘You think they will come out?’

‘From fire everyone flees.’

Once, long ago, their roles had been reversed; then Phoebe Rigby, the initiated one, had issued orders and been curt to Isabel Thorby, the novice; but gradually pupil had outstripped teacher. At one level, Phoebe Rigby operated very well, but she lacked the mystic quality, the hypnotic power, which was Isabel Thorby’s. Often, as the balance of power tilted, Phoebe Rigby had looked at Isabel and thought, But for me you’d be buried now; I wish I’d let you be!

‘It’s got a good hold now. I can smell it,’ Granny Rigby said uneasily. ‘Smoke can kill you, too. That Ethel, she’s pigheaded. . . .’ She made to go to the door, bang upon it and call to Ethel, but Miss Thorby said:

‘Wait.’

And then the bell cried out.

‘Thass Ethel!’ the old woman cried with a comical mixture of dismay and pride. ‘Trust Ethel, never at a loss!’ Then dismay gained ground. ‘What now? In five minutes they’ll be here.’

‘You must go home,’ said Miss Thorby calmly. ‘You have no reason for being here. I shall lock the church. By the time they find the other key there’ll be no evidence left. I shall say that the heat set the bell ringing. I shall be here waiting, having run straight out – in my nightgown.’

It was a plan of which, in any other circumstances, Granny Rigby would have approved, taken as proof of great cool-headedness and inventiveness; but part of the evidence which was to be destroyed was Ethel!

‘You can’t do that. Thass leaving Ethel to burn!’

‘Come along. There’ll be another Ethel.’

Mrs Rigby flung herself at the door and, against the booming of the bell – just as Ethel, on the other side of the door, turned to Miss Mayfield with her pleased triumphant smile – she screamed:

‘Ethel, come out! You’ll burn to death. You don’t hev to do nothing you don’t want. I promise. Ethel. I promise on the Bible. Miss Mayfield, can you hear me? Bring her out. You’re going to burn . . . burn to death. . . .’

Miss Thorby stepped close to Mrs Rigby and said into her ear:

‘You’re wasting time. They can’t even hear you. Come.’