"The bush is on fire! the hedge is on fire!" There was terrible noise and
confusion.

"Dora! Dora!" cried a voice of distress from the cottage behind the hedge,
and Dora rose from her hiding place and hurried into the house. She had
been so completely absorbed by what had been taking place under the
apple-tree, though indeed she saw and heard but imperfectly, that she had
entirely forgotten everything else, and it was full two hours that she had
been lying all doubled up in the gap under the hedge.

Her aunt was flying back and forth, complaining and scolding. She had
collected all her things from the drawers and the presses, and heaped them
together, ready for flight.

"Aunt Ninette," said the little girl timidly, for she knew she had staid
out too long, "you need not be frightened; it is all dark again in the
garden; the fire is all out."

Her aunt cast a rapid glance from the window, and saw that this was true;
everything was dark, even the last lantern extinguished. Some one was
moving about among the trees, evidently to make sure that all was safe.

"This is too terrible! Who would have believed that such things could
happen?" said Aunt Ninette, half scolding, half-whimpering. "Go to bed now
Dora. To-morrow we will move away, and find another house, or leave the
place altogether."

The child obeyed quickly, and went up to her little bedroom, but it was
long, very long, before she could sleep. She still saw the illuminated
garden, the sparkling apple tree, and the father and mother with their