"Sure and it's sorry I am," Patsy began.
Cole shook his head. "I'm just glad Annabel and I weren't there, and the servants wouldn't have been there so early this morning, either. Now, let's go see about Mrs. Noone."
The streets were, still crowded with refugees from the catastrophe, but Patsy rang the bell on the pumper and made a path for the wagon to follow. He had to steer around places in the road where the pavement had collapsed or thrust up, so it was slow going as he and Cole and Annabel made their way toward Pacific Heights. A black pall of smoke hung over the entire city now. It might have been dusk, rather than midday. People shuffled pitifully along the ruined streets, coughing from the smoke, their eyes dull and lifeless and bereft of hope. Annabel's heart went out to them.
She knew this stunned state of mind wouldn't last. Within a few days, people would begin making plans to start their lives over. San Francisco would rise again, a phoenix from the ashes, as it had always done before. But for now, for many people, it was as if the world as they knew it had come to a final, irrevocable end and Annabel could not help but feel sorry for them.
The fires had not yet reached Pacific Heights, and many of the fine houses were still standing with only minor damage, Annabel saw to her relief as Patsy drove toward Mrs. Noone's. The gate in the wrought-iron fence out front stood open, and Patsy sent the wagon rolling up the driveway.
Lucius must have seen them coming. He trotted out to meet them. "Miss Lowell!" he cried as Patsy brought the wagon to a stop. "Thank God you're all right! And Mr. Brady, too."
Annabel hopped down from the pumper without waiting for Cole to give her a hand. She quickly embraced Lucius, then asked, "What about Mrs. Noone?"
"She was quite upset, of course, and greatly worried about you, but she insists that she's fine. She says that she's been through earthquakes before and will no doubt experience them again."
Annabel smiled a little. That sounded like Mrs. Noone, all right.
"The fires may spread up here," Cole warned. "You'd better be ready to move fast if you have to."
Lucius nodded. "Indeed, sir. I already have some supplies loaded into the buggy and the horse ready to hitch up if need be. If worst comes to worst, we can depart from here in a matter of moments."
"Good. Keep an eye on the fires." From up here, practically the entire city was visible, spread out below. At the moment, however, there wasn't much to see except billowing clouds of black smoke.
Cole turned to Annabel and asked, "What now?"
"I'd like to see about Mellisande."
He shook his head and pointed toward the downtown area. The smoke was as thick there as anywhere else. "We wouldn't be able to get anywhere close to Market Street"
Annabel knew he was right, but she still felt a pang of regret. If only she could have remembered earlier when the earthquake was going to occur . . .
And what would you have done? she asked herself. How do you stop an earthquake, even if you know it's coming?
The answer was simple: She couldn't have done a thing to prevent the quake. But she might have been able to see to it that her friends were in the safest possible place.
There was no guarantee anyone would have believed her, she reminded herself. It was the same as the army using dynamite and having the plan backfire. History had to run its course.
"I think we should go back to the engine company," Annabel said. "Maybe there's not much we can do; but at least we can try."
Cole studied her intently for a moment, then nodded. "You're right. We have to do what we can."
From the driver's seat of the fire wagon, Patsy said, "Ye're daft, both o' ye! Ye're out of it. Why not stay somewhere safe until 'tis all over?"
Cole put his arm around Annabel, and she saw that from somewhere, he had summoned up a grin. "Because we're firemen!" he said, then glanced at her. "Better make that firefighters."
"That's right," Annabel heard herself saying, and incredibly, she was grinning, too. "So let's go fight those fires."
Patsy rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he said, "All right, then. Climb aboard."
And as the wagon rolled down the hill toward the spreading flames, he chuckled and muttered once again, "Daft. . . the whole lot of us!"
****