There was a sharp explosion from the midst of the fire.
"See! He's fighting against his death!"
"No! No!" It's only the falling of a timber!"
Yet with a panic at his heart he knew that it was the sharp crack of a firearm.
"Liar again! Pierre, for God's sake, do something for him. Father! He's fighting for his life!"
Another and another explosion from the midst of the fire. He understood then.
"The flames have reached his guns. That's all, Jack. Don't you see? We'd be throwing ourselves away to run into those flames."
Realization came to her at last. A heavy weight slumped down suddenly over his arms. He held her easily, lightly. Her head had tilted back, and the red flare of the fire beat across her face and throat. The roar of the flames shut out all other thought of the world and cast a wide inferno of light around them.
Higher and higher rose the fires, and the wind cut off great fragments and hurried them off into the night, blowing them, it seemed, straight up against the piled thunder of the clouds. Then the roof sagged, swayed, and fell crashing, while a vast cloud of sparks and livid fires shot up a hundred feet into the air. It was as if the soul of old Boone had departed in that final flare.
It started the girl into sudden life, surprising Pierre, so that she managed to wrench herself free and ran from him. He sprang after her with a shout, fearing that in her hysteria she might fling
