suddenly to a crimson zenith and then dying down to a glowing line of fire.
"Lewes is ablaze!" I cried.
"No, it is Brighton which is burning," said Challenger, stepping across to join us. "You can see the curved back of the downs against the glow. That fire is miles on the farther side of it. The whole town must be alight."
There were several red glares at different points, and the pile of débris upon the railway line was still smouldering darkly, but they all seemed mere pinpoints of light compared to that monstrous conflagration throbbing beyond the hills. What copy it would all have made for the Gazette! Had ever a journalist such an opening and so little chance of using it—the scoop of scoops, and no one to appreciate it? And then, suddenly, the old instinct of recording came over me. If these men of science could be so true to their life's work to the very end, why should not I, in my humble way, be as
