"What a fearful night!" cried Anton, turning away.
"We must not think of that now," said Fink. "Human life is only valuable when one is ready to surrender it on a fitting opportunity. The great point is, that we have shaken off that fiery millstone from our throats. It is not impossible that the wretches may yet succeed in kindling it; but it will not do much harm at its present distance."
At that moment a bright light shone through the loop-holes of the tower. All rushed to the window. A dazzling light flamed up from the opposite side of the wagon, and a sudden impetus hurled the heavy mass against the wall of the house. A single man sprang back from the wagon; a dozen guns were pointed at him at once.
"Stop!" cried Fink, in a piercing voice. "It is too late. Spare him; he is a fine fellow; the mischief is done."
"Merci, Monsieur; au revoir!" said a voice from below; and the man sprang uninjured into the darkness.
In a moment the wagon was in a blaze, and from the straw and rushes with which it was laden on the top, the yellow flames rose crackling, while firebrands flew in all directions. The house was suddenly illuminated: masses of smoke burst through the shattered windows.
"That is powder," cried Fink. "Steady, steady, my men! We will keep the enemy off if they force an entrance. You, Anton, see whether you can put out the fire."
"Water!" cried the men; "the window-frame has caught!" Without, there were fresh orders shouted out. The drums beat; and, with a wild cry of triumph, a cordon of skirmishers neared the house. The fire of the besiegers began once more, in order to impede the quenching of the flames. Water was brought from the great butt in the yard, and poured on the burning window-frames—a dangerous task enough; for the front of the house was lighted up, and the ever-advancing skirmishers aimed at every figure as it became visible. The besieged glanced anxiously at the flames, and returned the fire of their opponents unsteadily. Even the sentinels in the court looked more behind than before them. The disorder became general. The moment of greatest danger had come. All seemed lost.
Next a man called down from the tower, "They are bringing short ladders from the village; we can see the axes in their hands."
"They will get over the palings, and break in the windows of the lower story," cried the men to each other, in utmost alarm.