From Madam'zelleGiry: Day 4: Heroic rescue

Holmes and I saw the smoke rising from our client's home, exchanged a horrified glance and then broke into a run. There was the sound of a firecart in the distance, but it was a long way off and the country roads were long and winding.

My companion had reached the cottage ahead of me and was already assessing the situation when I arrived. He turned to me.

"The youngest children are still inside."

I did not need to ask how he knew. The frantic parents were clinging to the children that they had managed to save and calling the names of the remaining two.

"Oh Holmes! How dreadful!" I gasped as I turned my eyes upon the blaze before us. There was little doubt that that charming little thatched cottage would be nothing but ash and rubble before the fire brigade arrived.

"Wait here Watson. You may be needed."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, but I still had time to grasp hold of him and force him to face me once more.

"Watson! Time is of the essence!"

"We shall go together," said I forcefully. "Those children will most likely have need of me."

"And what can you do for anyone in a burning building?" he snapped back at me. "Come now Watson! You shall be of more use here and you know it. Wait here."

I closed my eyes against my building panic and emotion and, with a silent nod, relinquished my grasp on his arm. By the time that I was able to again open my eyes he was gone and I could not help but think that I would never again see him in this world.

I had been standing on the same spot, watching the front door with building anxiety for what seemed to me an eternity when I was hailed by Inspector Fletcher, with whom Holmes and I had been working.

"I got Mr. Holmes' note and came as fast as I could," he informed me as he leapt from the four-wheeler in which he had arrived. "What new developments are there? Have we got our man?"

For the second time since I first started working with Sherlock Holmes, I became truly angry with the official police. Could he not see that I was in some distress? Was he unable to smell the smoke?

"Hang the case!" I replied with no small amount of fury and made my way back to the cottage with my stomach twisting itself into knots. I regretted allowing Holmes to enter that inferno alone.

The inspector whistled. "At least these cottages don't have any gas," he remarked. "There won't be any explosions at any rate. But where is Mr. Holmes? Gone to get help?"

It took much more effort than I would have liked to keep myself from swearing at the man. Finding that I could not trust my mouth to answer in a seemly manner, I simply pointed to what was left of the cottage with a hand that I was unable to keep from shaking.

Fletcher swore. "The idiot! What is he doing, running into a burning building like that? What was he thinking? He's too valuable to risk himself like that!"

I ran a hand over my face. I cared not a jot about how his country might need my friend at that moment. All I knew was that I had lost my companion once and could not bear to do so again.

"There are children in there," I attempted to explain. "He could not..."

Fletcher snorted. "They're probably overcome with smoke by now. It's suicide!"

I was spared from giving an answer when the roof collapsed and we were both forced to stand clear. I then rushed forward and removed the debris from in front of the door in desperation. Holmes could have been attempting to get out at any moment and would need that doorway to be passable.

There was still no sign of the fellow and so I started to call his name, all the while attempting to keep from my mind the last occasion in which I had shouted for my companion above a deafening roar. I had not received a reply at Reichenbach and I could not quite ignore the creeping doubts that he would be able to respond now.

A sudden cough made itself heard and I stepped inside the door tentatively. How long did we have until the floor gave way?

"Holmes!" I called anxiously as I strained my eyes and ears for an indication that I had not imagined that cough. "Holmes? Can you hear me?"

I continued to call out until the smoke that assailed my throat left me unable to speak - much less shout - further without coughing fitfully. My eyes were stinging too much to be able to see through the smoke and blinding flames and yet I continued to strain to catch sight of my friend and colleague.

I had all but given up when I heard Holmes' cough again. It was nearer this time.

"Holmes!" I turned away for a moment to clear my throat of the poisonous smoke before trying again. "Follow my voice Holmes; you must be close now."

The inspector was standing just outside the door and he too started to call for my companion. The situation was becoming desperate; the ceiling was about to come down at any minute!

Holmes at last lurched out of the swirling smoke and approached the door in which we stood. He looked dreadful! His mouth hung open as he struggled to breathe and his eyes were streaming due to the bright light of the flames and the choking smoke.

As he stepped closer I saw that my companion had a child held close to him in each of his arms. He had clearly ripped his handkerchief in half and tied the pieces over his charges' mouths and noses to protect them as best he could from the smoke. He had also told them to use his shoulders as shelter from the heat and smoke, by all appearances.

I rushed to meet my companion and all but dragged him out into the fresh air. The overjoyed parents immediately relived my companion of his charges and Fletcher draped his coat about his shoulders, as he was feeling the difference in temperature somewhat keenly.

"Brave children," my friend gasped between racking coughs. "Resourceful as well. Parents should be proud."

I squeezed his arm gently, for I myself was rather proud of him.

"We should get everyone inside and out of this weather," Fletcher remarked.

I agreed quietly.

"There's an inn not far from here," the inspector then told me. "But we can't all fit in the four-wheeler."

At that moment, the fire brigade arrived. Upon finding that there was little that they could do in saving the cottage they assisted in transporting our little party to the local inn, The George and Dragon.

Upon examining the children, I discovered that they were fortunate. Holmes informed me that they had managed to find a place to hide in which they were safe from much of the smoke and repeated that they had been very brave and resourceful. I must admit that I very much doubt that a child of four years (and much less one of two) would have thought to get away from the smoke; surely two frightened children would be much more concerned about those hot flames? Naturally though, his words were a great comfort to the parents and perhaps that was his intention.

My companion was received as a hero. We were given the best guest room and assured that we would not have to pay for it. Holmes was also provided with a restorative drink and hot bath, for he had come off rather worse than the children that he had rescued, as his selflessness had left him quite unable to protect himself from the smoke. He continued to cough fitfully despite my ministrations well into the early hours of the following morning. It did not prevent him from bringing the case to a successful conclusion, however.