“What a position to be in!” observed Wrench.
“Well, I can’t say I have ever had anything so hot as that.
“Neither should I care for such another dose. Of course you understand that I was in uniform, and serving my country as a volunteer at this time.”
“No, I did not quite understand that.”
“Ah, but I was; although a mere detective, I could handle a rifle with the best of them.
“Well, I need not tell you that I worked as I never worked before—the axe tore down the earth in masses—the darkness, the perilous mystery in that I was doing, the faint-heard shouts of the wretches above, storming about the burning house, the flames roaring, the wood crashing, wrought me up to a herculean frenzy.
“The spirit-cask was now staved; ankle deep in the fiery contents we both worked, like Gog and Magog of yore; suddenly a huge lump of mould rolled down, light and air pouring in upon us. Tear! wrench! a fissure sufficient for human egress presented itself; quickly dragging ourselves through, we stood in a thick clump of low rose bushes, where we lay peering out towards the roaring mass of flame, and through the smoke endeavoured to get a sight of the murderous rascals who ran riot amidst the flames.
“Hark! The riot lulls; a thud of hoofs, a regular monotonous clanking—ah, we knew those sounds. Rushing out of the bushes, we came upon a cavalry squad, holding at bay the drunken crowd.
“We shouted to the officer in charge to order a surround, which was quickly done; then followed explanation. In the excitement of the scene I had almost forgotten the man with the scarlet kerchief; now I thought of him.
“Looking sharply around I espied him creeping off towards the place where the boss’s horses were tethered.