He murmured some inarticulate words, and went out of the house.
The priest went on talking with Bart, and for a long time no notice was taken of Pat’s absence. But hours passed, and bedtime came, and still there were no signs of him. Bart went out to call him.
Pat was not visible; but Bart saw a sight that drove all thoughts of Pat out of his mind. Pat, in fact, had fled, determining to sleep anywhere rather than in the priest’s house; and so Bart saw no signs of him. But the sight that he did see was awful beyond description.
There, where his eyes first turned, he saw the gloomy shadow of the forest. Overhead the sky was filled with rolling smoke clouds; and immediately above the range of the forest trees there was a long line of red,—dull, lurid, dark,—yet sustained and unintermittent, lying like a foundation of fire under all the moving mass of smoke.
The priest had followed him out. He looked at it for some time in silence.
“The fire is nearer,” he said, at last.
“And there is where we must go to-morrow,” said Bart; “and Phil is there!”
The priest said nothing.
Where—where—O, where is Phil? Such was now the one thought of Bart’s mind.