For a few minutes he lay still, quietly trying the strength of his bonds. He knew that knots hastily tied could frequently be worked loose; but, alas, it was a vain hope in his case! Those who had secured him had done their work well.
And then suddenly he became aware of a hot, choky feeling in the air, and a sound of crackling. He struggled into a sitting posture, and—oh, horrible, horrible!—the room was full of smoke. The place was on fire, and he and his dear father were there, helpless and bound, left to perish in the flames!
What wonder that terror claimed him for the moment? Who would not flinch then in such an awful position?
"Father! Father!" he cried; but the prostrate man returned no answer. He lay silent, motionless. Ralph rolled over and over to his side. Alas, what good would that do? He managed to struggle to his feet by supporting himself in an angle of the room, and he gazed around. The smoke was growing worse—he could hardly breathe when he stood up—and hot puffs of air were forcing themselves through the flooring and whirling along the passage and through the door of the room—the door which was cracking and glowing red now, ready to burst into flame.
Oh, was there no help, no succour? If only his faithful Warren or dear old Charlton knew of his peril, how they would come to his aid! Alas, they were far away, and they did not know.
But what was that? A sound outside! A shout, and the dogs barking and raging more than ever, in a perfect fury of anger. Then a smashing of glass. Had the fire broken the windows? No. A form rising above the sill, a man who staggered as the hot smoke met him, and who bent down on all fours to creep across the room—a man who cried aloud—
"Ralph Rexworth, are you here? Are you here?"
It was Mr. Charlton; it was Mr. Charlton come to his aid. Oh, what a swift rush of thanksgiving filled Ralph's heart then!
"Here, here!" he answered. "I am tied up; I cannot move. And father is here, too; he is senseless." And Mr. Charlton was by his side in a few moments.
"Thank God you are unharmed," he said, as he drew his knife across the ropes that held Ralph prisoner. "I saw you enter, and I feared mischief; and when those two came out and drove off, I knew not what to think. There are two brutes of dogs there, and they prevented my trying to get in. Then I saw the smoke and flame, and I knew what they had done. I grew desperate, and made a dash for it. The dogs almost got me, but I managed to get into a tree that grew close to the house; and I passed along one branch to the top of the verandah, and so worked my way round. It was risky, for if I had slipped those two brutes would have been on me in a moment."