“No, sir, no, sir,” said Mr Frewen. “Keep back there, everybody. Now, Dale, up on end with it.”
I stooped down, and we quickly lifted the chest on its end, dragged the door a little way, but not far, for the chest still impeded it.
But there was room for me to force my way through the door, and I was in the act of passing through a little way, so as to lean out and once more snatch the powder-bag in out of danger when I saw that Jarette had snatched the candle out of the lantern held ready for him, and applied the light to the train.
Mr Frewen saw it too, and dragged me back, and in one and the same effort threw me and himself over the barricade. I should more correctly have said, let himself, as he held me, fall backward over the wall of chests into the cabin.
It all took place almost as quick as thought, for as we fell heavily upon the saloon-floor, there was a terrific flash, a roar, and I was conscious of being driven right into the great cabin, buried beneath a weight which caused me intense pain, and then all was blank.
Chapter Seventeen.
I could not have been insensible many moments, for I was conscious of shouting and trampling, of a thick black smoke which made it seem like night, of voices giving orders, and Jarette yelling to his men now in French, now in English, and all the time there was a crushing weight across my legs and chest.
Then there were a couple of shots fired, and the shutting and banging of doors; some one shrieked, and a man was thrown back over the mass which held me down.