“Sure,” said he, “’tis a fire out yonder!”
“God help us, Matt.—’tis the House of Gleys!”
It took but two minutes to toss the silver back into the hearse. I clapp’d-to the door, and snatching the reins, sprang upon the driver’s seat.
CHAPTER XX. — THE ADVENTURE OF THE LEDGE; AND HOW I SHOOK HANDS WITH MY COMRADE.
We had some ado to find the gate: but no sooner were through, and upon the high road, than I lash’d the horses up the hill at a gallop. To guide us between the dark hedges we had only our lantern and the glare ahead. The dishes and cups clash’d and rattled as the hearse bump’d in the ruts, swaying wildly: a dozen times Matt, was near being pitch’d clean out of his seat. With my legs planted firm, I flogg’d away like a madman; and like mad creatures the horses tore upward.
On the summit a glance show’d us all—the wild crimson’d sky—the sea running with lines of fire—and against it the inky headland whereon the House of Gleys flar’d like a beacon. Already from one wing—our wing—a leaping column of flame whirl’d up through the roof, and was swept seaward in smoke and sparks. I mark’d the coast line, the cliff tracks, the masts and hull of the Godsend standing out, clear as day; and nearer, the yellow light flickering over the fields of young corn. We saw all this, and then were plunging down hill, with the blaze full ahead of us. The heavy reek of it was flung in our nostrils as we gallop’d.
At the bottom we caught up a group of men running. ’Twas a boatload come from the ship to help. As our horses swept past them, one or two came to a terrified halt; but presently were running hard again after us.
The great gate stood open. I drove straight into the bright-lit yard, shouting “Delia!—where is Delia?”