"What's the matter?" he asked of one of the soldiers, a slim httle Frenchman.
"Zare ees a fire down zat way," answered the Frenchman, pointing with his hand. "Ze guard say it ees ze prison zat is burning."
"The prison!" exclaimed Gilbert.
"So ze guard say. I run, and I see for my own eyes." And the little Frenchman ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.
"Well, I guess I'll see for 'my own eyes,' too," muttered Gilbert, and also put on a burst of speed, which speedily took him past the man who had given him the information. By the time the second square was passed, the young lieutenant saw the prison building quite plainly, and saw that it was blazing fiercely at one end and in the front.
A strong wind was blowing; and, unless this shifted, it was easy to see that the entire structure would be doomed. The thick black smoke was curling from every window; and the very street was so full that the fire brigade could do little or nothing.
"Have they got the prisoners out?" asked Gilbert of one of the firemen.
