Just as we were setting off the carts arrived with a party of revenue-men, armed to the teeth, to carry off the smugglers’ goods, for it was thought likely that a rescue might be attempted. We had got to no great distance, when on looking back I saw a cloud of smoke issuing from the old building. It increased in density, and presently flames burst out.
“Could they have set the place on fire?”
“Not intentionally,” said my father; “but it is very evident that the mill is burning, and from the nature of the materials of which it is composed there is not the slightest chance of its escaping destruction.”
Tired as I was, I persuaded him to go back to see what had happened. As we got nearer the building we saw that the whole of it was enveloped in flame. The revenue-men were busily engaged in loading the carts. They had soon found that any attempt to save the mill would be useless, and that they would only run the risk of losing their lives. We were at some short distance when a tremendous roar was heard, the ground shook beneath our feet, and the whole building came toppling down, a vast heap of burning ruins; while planks, and beams, and masses of earth, were thrown up into the air, showing that an explosion had taken place in the vault where I had been confined. No one suspected that any casks of powder had been deposited there, but that such was the case there was no doubt. I had now reason to be very thankful that I had not found a tinder-box, for I should certainly have tried to light a fire in the vault, and probably the sparks would have communicated to the powder. How the fire originated no one could tell, but I suspected that one of the men had lit his pipe, and that the ashes had fallen out upon some loose grains of powder. We, as well as the revenue-men, had a narrow escape from being crushed by the ruins which fell close to us.
Such was the end of Old Grime’s mill.
Chapter Eight.
My reception at home—Aunt Deb again gives her advice—My father and I pay another visit to Leighton Hall—Our guard—Interview with Sir Reginald—A score that was not settled to my satisfaction—My awkward position—My father receives a threatening letter—Aunt Deb decides on action—Preparations for my departure—The journey in the coach—Our fellow-travellers—A false alarm—My aunt’s character further comes out—Our arrival at Liverpool—Our reception—Mr Butterfield—I explore Liverpool—My first visit to the “Emu”—I gain some information—I lose my way—Aunt Deb’s anxiety on my account—A small difficulty well got out of—I pay another visit to the “Emu”—My ideas as to officers and seamanship receive a somewhat rude check—I make the acquaintance of Gregory Growles—I lose my cutter—“Thief! Thief!”—I speak to Mr Butterfield as to my going to sea—His opinions on the subject—He makes me a kind offer—Matters still unsettled—A reference to Aunt Deb.
My father supported me as we walked home; for, now that the excitement was over, I felt so exhausted that without his assistance I could not have got along. Before we had got far, however, we fortunately fell in with some of the people who had been sent by my father to look for me. They, taking me in their arms, saved me from the necessity of making further exertions. As we went on we met several seafaring men, boatmen and others, who I thought scowled at me as I passed.