"Burn him out—burn him out!" were the only words that could be heard from any of the mob. The words ran through the house like wildfire, nobody thought of anything else, and all were seen running about in confusion.
There was no want of good will on the part of the mob to the undertaking; far from it, and they proceeded in the work con amore. They worked together with right good will, and the result was soon seen by the heaps of combustible materials that were collected in a short time from all parts of the house.
All the old dry wood furniture that could be found was piled up in a heap, and to these were added a number of faggots, and also some shavings that were found in the cellar.
"All right!" exclaimed one man, in exultation.
"Yes," replied a second; "all right—all right! Set light to it, and he will be smoked out if not burned."
"Let us be sure that all are out of the house," suggested one of the bystanders.
"Ay, ay," shouted several; "give them all a chance. Search through the house and give them a warning."
"Very well; give me the light, and then when I come back I will set light to the fire at once, and then I shall know all is empty, and so will you too."
This was at once agreed to by all, with acclamations, and the light being handed to the man, he ascended the stairs, crying out in a loud voice,—
"Come out—come out! the house is on fire!"