"Ha, ha, ha! What? The angels of heaven must be rejoicing.... Only remember, uncle, if we're taken, don't deny what we've done. We'll have a pretty little blaze!... Here, take the flint and steel!"
"Go to the devil!" answered the other. "You sha'n't tempt me, cursed little snake! Pah! Kindle yourself!"
"Ah, you're crying off..." and trembling with rage the little man seized the big man by the beard.
"I'll be the first to denounce you; I shall be believed...."
"Leave me alone, damn you. Give me the flint.... I've had enough of this."
The sparks sprang out. The smaller man, for greater comfort, or to complete his resemblance to a young snake, laid himself flat on his stomach. Thin tongues of flame ran through the straw, which had been soaked in pitch. Thick smoke arose. A mass of flame shone ruddily on the distressed face of the giant Aragaris, and the monkey-like visage of the little Syrian, Strombix, who began leaping and laughing like one drunk or mad—
"We'll destroy it all, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost! Ho! ho! ho! A pretty little blaze, eh!"
There was something ferocious in his destructive glee.
Aragaris, pointing to the darkness, muttered—
"Don't you hear something?"