《The Thirteenth Tale》第105章

and　the　greatest　madness　of　all：　supposing　i　hadn’t　been　there　to　stop　her？　supposing　i　hadn’t　rescued　the　infant　and　she　had　burned　him　alive？　how　could　she　ever　imagine　that　burning　her　sister’s　child　would　restore　her　sister　to　her？
it　was　the　fire　of　a　madwoman。
in　my　arms　the　baby　stirred　and　opened　his　mouth　to　mewl。　what　to　do？　behind　adeline’s　back　i　softly　retreated；　then　fled　to　the　kitchen。
i　must　get　the　baby　to　a　place　of　safety；　then　deal　with　adeline　later。　my　mind　was　working　furiously；　proposing　plan　after　plan。　emmeline　will　have　no　love　left　for　her　sister　when　she　realizes　what　she　tried　to　do。　it　will　be　she　and　i　now。　we　will　tell　the　police　that　adeline　killed　john…the…dig；　and　they　will　take　her　away。　no！　we　will　tell　adeline　that　unless　she　leaves　angelfield　we　will　tell　the　police…　no！　and　then　suddenly　i　have　it！　we　will　leave　angelfield。　yes！　emmeline　and　i　will　leave；　with　the　baby；　and　we　will　start　a　new　life；　without　adeline；　without　angelfield；　but　together。
and　it　all　seems　so　simple　i　wonder　i　never　thought　of　it　before。
with　the　future　glowing　so　brightly　it　seems　realer　than　the　present；　i　put　the　page　from　jane　eyre　in　the　game　bag　as　well；　for　safekeeping；　and　a　spoon　that　is　on　the　kitchen　table。　we　will　need　that；　en　route　to　our　new　life。
now　where？　somewhere　not　far　from　the　house；　where　there　is　nothing　to　hurt　him；　where　he　will　be　warm　enough　for　the　few　minutes　it　will　take　me　to　e　back　to　the　house　and　fetch　emmeline　and　persuade　her　to　follow…
not　the　coach　house。　adeline　sometimes　goes　there。　the　church。　that　is　a　place　she　never　goes。
i　run　down　the　drive；　through　the　lych…gate　and　into　the　church。　in　the　front　rows　are　small　tapestry　cushions　for　kneeling。　i　arrange　them　into　a　bed　and　lay　the　baby　on　them　in　his　canvas　papoose。
now；　back　to　the　house。
i　am　almost　there　when　my　future　shatters。　shards　of　glass　flying　through　the　air；　one　breaking　window　then　another；　and　a　sinister；　living　light　prowling　in　the　library。　the　empty　window　frame　shows　me　liquid　fire　spraying　the　room；　petrol　cans　bursting　in　the　heat。　and　two　figures。
emmeline！
i　run。　the　odor　of　fire　catches　my　nostrils　even　in　the　entrance　hall；　though　the　stone　floor　and　walls　are　cool—the　fire　has　no　hold　here。　but　at　the　door　of　the　library　i　stop。　flames　chase　each　other　up　the　curtains；　bookshelves　are　ablaze；　the　fireplace　itself　is　an　inferno。　in　the　center　of　the　room；　the　twins。　for　a　moment；　in　all　the　noise　and　heat　of　the　fire；　i　stop　dead。　amazed。　for　emmeline；　the　passive；　docile　emmeline；　is　returning　blow　for　blow；　kick　for　kick；　bite　for　bite。　she　has　never　retaliated　against　her　sister　before；　but　now　she　is　doing　it。　for　her　child。
around　them；　above　their　heads；　one　burst　of　light　after　another　as　the　petrol　cans　explode　and　fire　rains　down　upon　the　room。
i　open　my　mouth　to　call　to　emmeline　that　the　baby　is　safe；　but　the　first　breath　i　draw　in　is　nothing　but　heat；　and　i　choke。
i　hop　over　fire；　step　around　it；　dodge　the　fire　that　falls　on　me　from　above；　brush　fire　away　with　my　hands；　beat　out　the　fire　that　grows　in　my　clothes。　when　i　reach　the　sisters　i　cannot　see　them；　but　reach　blindly　through　the　smoke。　my　touch　startles　them　and　they　draw　apart　instantly。　there　is　a　moment　when　i　see　emmeline；　see　her　clearly；　and　she　sees　me。　i　grip　her　hand　and　pull　her；　through　the　flames；　through　the　fire；　and　we　reach　the　door。　but　when　she　realizes　what　i　am　doing—leading　her　away　from　the　fire　to　safety—she　stops。　i　tug　at　her。
‘he’s　safe。“　my　words　e　in　a　croak；　but　they　are　clear　enough。
why　doesn’t　she　understand？
i　try　again。　“the　baby。　i　have　saved　him。”
surely　she　has　heard　me？　inexplicably　she　resists　my　tug；　and　her　hand　slips　from　mine。　where　is　she？　i　can　see　only　blackness。
i　stumble　forward　into　the　flames；　collide　with　her　form；　grasp　her　and　pull。
still　she　won’t　stay　with　me；　turns　once　more　into　the　room。　why？
she　is　bound　to　her　sister。　she　is　bound。
blind　and　with　my　lungs　burning；　i　follow　her　into　the　smoke。　i　will　break　the　bond。
eyes　closed　against　the　heat；　i　plunge　into　the　library；　arms　ahead　of　me；　searching。　when　my　hands　reach　her　in　the　smoke；　i　do　not　let　her　go。　i　will　not　have　her　die。　i　will　save　her。　and　though　she　resists；　i　drag　her　ferociously　to　the　door　and　out　of　it。
the　door　is　made　of　oak。　it　is　heavy。　it　doesn’t　burn　easily。　i　push　it　shut　behind　us；　and　the　latch　engages。
beside　me；　she　steps　forward；　about　to　open　it　again。　it　is　something　stronger　than　fire　that　pulls　her　into　that　room。
the　key　that　sits　in　the　lock；　unused　since　the　days　of　hester；　is　hot。　ft　burns　my　palm　as　i　turn　it。　nothing　else　hurts　me　that　night；　but　the　key　sears　my　palm　and　i　smell　my　flesh　as　it　chars。　emmeline　puts　out　a　land　to　clutch　the　key　and　open　it　again。　the　metal　burns　her；　and　as　she　feels　the　shock　of　it；　i　pull　her　hand　away。
a　great　cry　fills　my　head。　is　it　human？　or　is　it　the　sound　of　the　fire　itself？　i　don’t　even　know　whether　it　is　ing　from　inside　the　room　or　outside　with　me。　from　a　guttural　start　it　gathers　strength　as　it　rises；　reaches　a　shrill　peak　of　intensity；　and　when　i　think　it　must　be　at　the　end　of　its　breath；　it　continues；　impossibly　low；　impossibly　long；　boundless　sound　that　fills　the　world　and　engulfs　it　and　contains　it。
and　then　the　sound　is　gone　and　there　is　only　the　roar　of　the　fire。
outdoors。　rain。　the　grass　is　soaked。　we　sink　to　the　ground；　we　roll　in　the　wet　grass　to　damp　our　smoldering　clothes　and　hair；　feel　the　cool　wet　on　our　scorched　flesh。　on　our　backs　we　rest　there；　flat　against　the　earth。　i　open　my　mouth　and　drink　the　rain。　it　falls　on　my　face；　cools　my　eyes；　and　i　can　see　again。　never　has　there　been　a　sky　like　it；　deep　indigo　with　fast…moving　slate…black　clouds；　the　rain　ing　down　in　blade　edges　of　silver；　and　every　so　often　a　plume；　a　spray　of　bright　orange　from　the　house；　a　fountain　of　fire。　a　bolt　of　lightning　cracks　the　sky　in　two；　then　again；　and　again。
the　baby。　i　must　tell　emmeline　about　the　baby。　she　will　be　happy　that　i　have　saved　him。　it　will　make　things　all　right。
i　turn　to　her　and　open　my　mouth　to　speak。　her　f