“Yes; better now.”
“You see the place is doomed. It is a sad affair; but we are guiltless. I will place the prisoners in your hands. See that they are courteously treated, and send them off under the escort of a troop to Barnstaple—at once. You can go and help.”
This last was to Fred, who accepted the duty eagerly, and the next minute he was making his way with his father in the direction of the knot of prisoners, whose armour shone in the light of the glowing pile.
Chapter Thirty Nine.
A Fruitless Search.
As Colonel Forrester and his son approached the prisoners, who were lying about on the grass in a variety of easy, careless attitudes, gazing at the fire, which had now assumed terrible proportions, Fred became aware of the fact that in place of being despondent, the Cavaliers were chatting away in the most indifferent manner.
But their conversation ceased, for from behind came a loud crashing noise, caused by some floor falling, and a buzz of wonder and admiration arose as the glowing windows suddenly belched forth flame, spark, and glowing flakes of fire, in so many eddying, whirling columns, which rose up and up to mingle and gild the lower surface of the cloud of smoke which glowed with orange and purple and red, while sparks flashed and glittered as they darted here and there like the flakes of a snowstorm suddenly changed to gold.
The scene was glorious now, for after a moment’s pause, the burning wood which had fallen formed fresh fuel to the mighty furnace within the thick walls, and the flames rushed up with renewed violence, illumining the scene far and near. Great sombre trees grew visible, brightened by the wondrous glow; the lawn seemed to be cut up into paths of light, and further away, ruddy reflections flashed from the lake; while the noble old Hall seemed to stand out against a dark background, with every angle, battlement, and vane clearly cut, till the smallest carving was plainly defined.