There was also a rolling mass of
flame above the water front and sporadic fires in the business district.
The streets were black with people, now fully dressed, and long processions
were moving steadily toward the bay as well as in the direction of the
hills behind the western rim of the city. James brought a pair of field
glasses, and Mrs. Groome discovered that the hurrying throngs were laden
with household goods, many pushing them in baby carriages and wheelbarrows.
It was the first flight of the refugees.
"James!" said Mrs. Groome sharply. "Bring me a cup of coffee and then go
down and find out exactly what is happening."
James, too wise in the habits of earthquakes to permit the still distracted
cook to make a fire in the range, brewed the coffee over a spirit lamp, and
then departed, nothing loath, on his mission. Mrs. Groome swallowed the
coffee hastily, handed the cup to Alexina and burst into tears.
"Mother!" Alexina was really terrified for the first time that morning.
Mrs. Groome practiced the severe code, the repressions of her class, and
what tears she had shed in her life, even over the deaths of those almost
forgotten children, had been in the sanctity of her bedroom. Alexina, who
had grown up under her wing, after many sorrows and trials had given her a
serenity that was one secret of her power over this impulsive child of
her old age, could hardly have been more appalled if her mother had been
stricken with paralysis.
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