But how had he got in? There was a gateman guarding the only entrance to the mill yard.
One look at the railings that surrounded the mill, however, answered that question for her. Although there was only one way through the gates, any man who was reasonably active could climb over them, and if he chose his spot carefully he could do it out of sight.
Unsettled by the unpleasant incident she continued on her way. She had been planning to leave as soon as she found her reticule but now she knew she must find Joshua and tell him that the mill had been defaced. She could look for her reticule once she had done so.
As she approached the door a new worry assailed her. What if the door should be locked?
But she need not have been concerned. She turned the large handle and it opened. With one look over her shoulder she went into the mill.
In the dark, it did not seem the friendly place it had seemed in the day time. There was no one about and the entrance was only dimly lit. The gas in the wall sconces was turned right down. There was a ghostly stillness, broken only by the distant clack of the machines as they cleaned and carded the cotton.
Summoning her courage, Rebecca began to climb the stairs to the office. She would not feel easy in herself until she had told Joshua about the man with the red paint. Joshua would know what to do, whether they should ignore the incident, or whether they should take it as a warning that the mill may be attacked.
The mere thought of Joshua gave her courage a boost, and she went forward with renewed vigour.
At the top of the second flight of stairs she paused for a moment's rest.
She was just about to go on again when she thought she smelled something. She sniffed. But no. There was nothing.
She began to climb the third flight of stairs, but barely had she reached the top when she caught the scent again, and this time it was strong enough for her to recognize.
Smoke!
It is probably a smell from one of the processes used in spinning the cotton, she told herself, but even as her mind gave her a reasonable explanation for the smell her instincts drove her actions, and picking up the hem of her skirt she began to run up the last flight of stairs.
As she did so she heard a distant thumping noise coming from above.
Her heart began to beat more quickly and she ran fleetly up the last few stairs. As she reached the top the thumping stopped but she could still smell the smoke, more strongly now. She hurried along the corridor, towards the office. She must find Joshua! She opened the office door but by the light of the moon, which was shining in at the window, she could see it was empty. She backed out, turning and wondering what she should do next, and then, to her horror, she caught sight of smoke curling from under the door at the very end of the corridor. A moment later she heard renewed thumping coming from the other side of it and her heart lurched. So that was the meaning of the noise! Someone was shut in!
Running towards the door she grasped the large brass knob and turned it. But to no avail. The door was locked.
Her eyes went to the keyhole.
No key.
“Are you all right?” she called. The thumping had stopped and she wanted to know if whoever was inside was still conscious.
“Rebecca?” came a man's surprised voice.
“Josh!” Rebecca was horrified. “Are you all right? What's happened?”
“No... ” He broke off coughing... “no time for that now. I'm locked in and I can't put out the fire. There's a spare set of ...” He coughed again... “keys in the office, in the desk. The top drawer on the left hand side.”
“I’ll get them.”
Rebecca flew down the corridor, going into the office and searching for the keys by the light of the moon. The top drawer... yes! Clutching the keys she ran back to the locked room and began trying them one by one. Her fingers were clumsy with haste and she dropped them with a clatter.
“Which key?” she asked as she picked them up, fumbling with the large bunch.
“The... second... largest,” called Josh, between coughing.
Rebecca found the right key by the dim light and put it in the lock. It turned. She twisted the door knob, and Joshua came stumbling out. He was coughing and choking despite the handkerchief he had held to his face and he stopped for a moment, doubled over, gasping in the cleaner air.
Rebecca put her arms protectively round him. She stroked his dark blond hair. It was pure instinct, and as she felt him relax against her she knew that his response was pure instinct, too. There was a deep, intuitive bond between them, that no amount of disagreements could destroy.
But she could not allow herself to prolong the moment, no matter how precious it was. Smoke was billowing out of the doorway and there was no telling how much Joshua had inhaled.
“Come,” she said, closing the door to prevent the fire and smoke spreading. “We have to get away from here. There's too much smoke.”
The smoke was rapidly filling the corridor. She thought quickly, wondering where it would be best for them to go. Not down the stairs — the smoke was already in the stairwell, and Joshua needed clean air to breath. The office. Its heavy door would have kept out most of the smoke, and there was a window they could open if needed. She guided Joshua, still bent double, into the office, and shut the door behind them. She gave a deep sigh. The air in here was untainted. It would provide them with a brief haven until Joshua caught his breath.
Joshua responded to the clean air. He breathed in deeply, taking the handkerchief away from his face, and was soon able to straighten up.
“I should ask you what you're doing here,” he said, once he had recovered. He took her hands, and there was an unfathomable expression on his face as he looked down into her eyes. “But there's no time. We have to put out the fire.” He went over to the far corner of the room, still coughing occasionally, and Rebecca saw that he was lifting a large bucket of water which had been standing there. “I ordered these put here in case of Luddite attacks,' he said in answer to her questioning glance. “There's one in every room.”
“Then why —?” asked Rebecca, wondering why he had not used the one in the study to put out the fire.
“It had been removed.”
Premeditated, then, thought Rebecca. Up until that moment she had thought the fire had started naturally.
Joshua wet his handkerchief and put it to his face before opening the door. He strode out into the corridor with the bucket of water. Rebecca, gathering her wits, quickly wet her own handkerchief, then holding it to her face she followed him into the corridor. What could she do? The buckets. Going in and out of the rooms along the corridor she fetched the buckets of water that had been placed there. Joshua stood in the doorway of the study, taking the buckets from her and throwing the water on the flames. Slowly and surely the water began to douse the fire.
The buckets were soon empty and the fire still burned, but the flames were at long last small enough to be beaten out. Joshua pulled down the curtains and used them to smother the remaining flames, and by the time ten minutes had passed the fire was at last extinguished.
Rebecca sank back against the desk, exhausted. But Joshua seized her by the hand.
“No,” he said. “You can't rest here. There's still too much smoke.”
He took her hand and led her out of the fire-blackened room and back into the office. They had kept the door closed and the atmosphere was not too unpleasant. He pushed her gently in front of him and then closed the door behind them, leaning back against it in relief.
Rebecca, feeling his strong, firm hand still holding her own, turned... and everything changed. She could barely see Joshua in the moonlight, and yet his silhouette, dark and powerful against the black bulk of the door, was redolent of such virile strength that she caught her breath.