Had Anglin been released from the fiery vortex or still restrained by iron bolts and bars?
The room in which the captive was held faced a gallery running at right angles from the main stairway.
Pulling their jackets up and over their heads, the boys plunged through the wall of smoke on mission of rescue—a mission without result, for the door of the place of confinement was wide open, and no one was there.
The rescuing party of two then turned their intent upon themselves, and none too quickly, for they had hardly won safety when the castle enclosure was wholly enveloped by consuming flame.
Farm buildings adjoining were also ablaze, and the wide highway stretching away to the east showed whitely in the glare.
In the red canopy overhead winged shadows whirred and whirled, dipped and leaped.
Billy and Henri proceeded down the road to escape the growing heat and rolling smoke. When the roaring of the fire had somewhat lessened in their hearing, they detected a familiar hum, just ahead and closing down beyond the border of the rising mist of the morning.
As aviators, the boys were instantly aware that an aëroplane was working near and the proof was immediately furnished by the appearance of the aircraft itself, swooping into the circle of illumination, skimming close to the surface of the highway.
The lads sprang forward to greet the aërial visitor, and as they did so a tall figure, hatless and coatless, leaped from the cover of a ditch nearby, ran like a deer alongside the skimming biplane, and vaulted into the frame behind the daring navigator.