back! You must come back!” he said.

He walked with me, bareheaded, to my carriage.

He again pressed my hand.

I rode to my hotel and went to bed, and to sleep.

I was awakened by a bright glare of light that filled my room.

I got up and looked at my watch. It was just midnight.

Off to the East I saw red tongues of angry flame streaking the sky
from horizon to zenith.

“It is the Jewish Club, all right,” I said.

I pulled down the blind and went back to bed.

When I went down to breakfast at seven o’clock in the morning, I heard
the newsboys in the streets crying, “All about the fire!” I bought a
paper and read the headline, “Hubbard’s Lecture Hot Stuff!”

I walked out Saint Charles Avenue and viewed the smoldering ruins
where only a few hours before I had spoken to more than two thousand
people—where the bishop in purple vestment had cried “Bravo!” and the
stout lady with feathered fan had beamed approval.

“Was anybody hurt?” I asked one of the policemen on guard.