His face became stern and hard in its expression, and his eyes gleamed with a wild light that could hardly have been pronounced sane.
"First the house!" he muttered, between his clinched teeth; "then I will see to the burial. After that revenge!"—words uttered with a power of feeling, which bespoke grim resolution.
Hurrying back to the bluff he entered the building, and from the pantry brought an oil-can and poured oil about in a number of different places, applying a lighted match to each.
As a result, bright sheets of flame sprung up, and, in less time almost than it takes to tell it, the interior of the old rookery was on fire in several places.
Then, with a wild laugh, he turned and fled from the building, and disappeared from the vicinity of the bluff.
The old house was doomed.
And in the doorless, windowless trap-room, where he had so unexpectedly become imprisoned, was Fritz, in the most unenviable situation one could well conceive.
Captain Gregg, as we shall henceforth call him, learned of Silly Sue's death shortly after it occurred through the Irishman, who, while pretending to leave the spot, had scouted around, and lurked in the vicinity until Hartly and Mr. Thornton had departed with the body.
Gregg was both alarmed and surprised when he heard the news, and immediately sought the countess for consultation.