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“I’ll be back soon,” he said. “I’ve got a fire to fight.”
He left the children with Mari and Lumley and ran back to Grafton. “Here,” he shouted over the noise of falling debris and shouting men. “I’ll man the boiler, you take the hose.”
The flames were climbing higher now.
There was still time to save Lumley’s shop but they must hurry.
“What’s happening?” asked Mari’s father, his face turned toward the blaze that was still smoldering, but greatly reduced now.
“Father is shoveling coal into the boiler,” said Michel.
“And Mr. Grafton has hold of a copper hose nozzle and the water is shooting so high in the air,” said Mari. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
The two men and their new kind of fire engine were the subject of much intense curiosity. Some in the crowd cheered them on, while others stood on the sidelines, arms crossed and faces grim.
Edgar worked tirelessly, sweat pouring from his brow. His shirt clung to his chest, displaying powerful muscles, as Grafton aimed the heavy stream of water at the still-smoldering bookshop.
“The fire’s contained now,” she told her father. “It won’t spread to your shop.”
His shoulders sagged. “That’s very good news. Though I do feel sorry for poor Brookfield. I’ll have to help him build his book collection again. Such rare volumes he had. What a tragedy.”
“It could have been so much worse. I’m so glad you and the children are unharmed. You’ll have to come home with us tonight to the duke’s house in Grosvenor Square.”
“Do come back with us, Mr. Lumley,” said Adele. “We can read you some of our stories about P.L. Rabbit.”
“Does she have many adventures?” he asked.
“Does she!” Adele glanced at Michel and the two of them grinned. “She’s a pirate rabbit.”
“She’s an Arctic explorer,” said Michel. “She speaks ten languages.”
“And she and Sir Peter Teazle won the Derby,” explained Adele. “We write new adventures for P.L. every day in our journals.”
“Did you now?” Her father laughed. “That’s not a bad idea, you know.”
“What’s that?” Mari asked.
“A series of stories about my wooden rabbit. We already have books that come with little toys, like tops and jacks, but we don’t have a little book that comes with a big toy.”
“It’s brilliant,” pronounced Mari.
“We’ll write the stories,” said Adele.
Grafton finally threw down the hose and Edgar joined him beside the engine. Mari could see them talking with the fire brigade foreman. The flames were almost completely doused.
The bucket line began again, to subdue the last of the fire.
Grafton dismantled the hoses while Edgar walked back to them.
“You did it, Father,” said Michel, running to meet him.
The two of them walked back together.
“There’s going to be quite a fight over our illegal use of a fire engine with no insurance company to back it. Luckily, I’m a duke,” said Edgar. “And also, luckily, the engine works. And it beats the devil out of buckets.”
“Your fire engines will save so many buildings, and so many lives. I’m so proud of you,” said Mari, her heart swelling with joy. Now he just had to build that railway.
“Are you?” he asked, his eyes soft in the near darkness.
