The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1899-04-02

streets were filled with the roar and riot
OF a mighty crowd. A house in a densely
populated neighborhood had suddenly burst
into flames and the inhabitants of the sur
rounding buildings had rushed into the street
in a state Of wild alarm. The crowd was
soon swelled by spectators drawn from all
parts by the lurid glare that shot up into
the skies.
There is nothing that attracts the Lon
doner of all ages and conditions like a fire.
II has a special fascination of its own and
few can resist it. By the time the hastily
summoned engines had arrived the mob had
assumed formidable dimensions, and the po-
lice had to drive the people back in order to
give the hremen room TO work.
With marvellous rapidity the story of the
IRE spread through the ever-increasing
crowd until the last newcomer was as well
acquainted with the facts as the man who
lived next door, and it was known to all the
eager Mortified Iookers-On that there
some dozen people in the burning building,
which was French laundry. and that the
ire having burst suddenly and with
great fury the whole house was in flames,
and 1t most probable that the brave
fremen, who were doing their best TO force
their way in through the smoke and flame,
would be too late TO rescue a single life.
The first conner had seen a white form
appear at an upper window. wave it's arms
and fall back again out Of sight. Some de-
clared that they had heard shrieks, but
that was before the engines came. Since
then all had been silent save for the roar
of the fire, the kissing of the water. the
throb Of the engines and the hurried words
of command given by the brigade officers
10 their men.
something would have been seen of 'em,
If any Of 'em were still alive" said a SYM
pathetic policeman who
questioning him. I'm afraid It's a case
with EN-"
a sigh OF sympathy ran round the inner
edge of the crowd within hearing distance.
Its awful, isn't it!''
Awful; and they're all foreigners. 1 hear.
some OF 'em quite young gals from ever so
far away
''Shockin'! makes your blood run cold to
think what it'll mean for them as belongs
TO EN-, poor things"
''P'r'aps some of 'em are outr'
Not d soul; I've been here from the
first"
So the conversation ran, but the words
were everywhere spoken slowly and sober
~ as one speaks in the presence of death.
Suddenly. there was change in the atti-
tude of the crowd, hush and then a
frenzied roar, as out of the burning mass
fireman was seen to come suddenly with
something in a blanket. He was on the
ground floor level with the street. and only
the people in front could see distinctly. But
they communicated the news rapidly to the
people behind.
The fireman had brought out little girl.
The child was senseIess, but it was still
alive. Willing hands had taken it and car
Tied it to place of safety at once.
That was the only rescue. The crowd
stayed on until the building had burned it
self out, and only the black charred, smok-
ing ruin remained. Then they went back to
their homes to tell of the CHASTITY tragedy
they had witnessed in the early hours of
the morning.
few hours later the story told to
the world in the prosaic columns of the
newspapers Seventeen people, all foreign
ers, had persisted in the burning of the
French laundry. One child, little girl of
four, had been rescued alive. Whose child
she was no one could say. None of the
neighbOrs knew that there had ever been
child on the premises, and the good priest,
Father Andre. who had been I'm the habit
OF visiting the proprietess and the girls
who lived with her and assisted her in her
business. confessed himself astonished that
child should have been found there.
Madame lie Beau. the proprietress, was a
widow. Her principal hand, who lived on
the premises with her husband who attend
ed to the furnaces, was childIess, and the
other occupants were all single young girls
the eldest of whom was one and twenty.
Father Andre had been in the house to visit
sick girl on the afternoon of the day of
the fire. and there was no child there then
had nd
there he should have heard of it, for Ma
dame lie Beau was gossip and told him
everything. A chat with her good priest
was one OF her principal distractions.
There was an inquest on the charred re-
mains Of the victims, hut the inquiry failed
To elicit any information about the little
one. The fireman had found her in front
room. He believed at the time she was
lying a sofa, and the child, when he
brought it out was fully dressed. This fact
suggested that it had been brought to the
house that night. and that it was not living
there. Had IL been an inmate it would have
been in its night clothes
The child had been Intercepted, but
seemed bewildered. She spoke English with
an ordinary English accent and said her
was Lillian. Asked how she came
there. she answered Mamma asked who
her mamma was, she only replied MANI
ma" Every effort to obtain further infor-
nation from the little one herself had failed.
Her clothes were good. and she had evil
IDENTIFY been in every sense Of the word we'll
cared for.
When the inquest was adjourned it was
thought that some one connected with the |
child would hear OF what had happened and |
come forward at the next inquiry, but al |
though ell the relatives of the victims were |
communicated with there was no one who |
could give the slightest clew to it's identity. |
The child had in the meantime been taken |
by Father Andre 10 the house of his relative, |
Madame Denier, French lady married TO |
a Frenchman established ia business in |
London and with whom Father Andre |
lodged. He had expected that sooner or
later he should be able TO hand the little one |
over 10 her relatives. but when the long in
quiry closed. and still no one had come for |
ward TO claim the child, he had TO face the |
fact that he had taken upon himself a Sc
rious responsibility. Ii was hardly likely |
now that anyone would claim the little girl
II its friends parents had intended to,