night, during a high gale, the whole place, except a few houses, had
been destroyed by fire. After this the streets were rebuilt of stone
and bricks.

These new tales which Fred told me, of places I knew, had a terrible
interest peculiarly their own. For the captain's dangers were over for
good now, but war, plague, and fire in the town might come again.

I thought of them by day, and dreamed of them by night. Once I
remember being awakened, as I fancied, by the clanging of the two
peals in discordant unison, and as I opened my eyes a bright light on
the wall convinced me that the town was on fire. Fred's vivid
descriptions rushed to my mind, and I looked out expecting to see S.
Philip and S. James standing up like dark rocks in a sea of dancing
flames, their bells ringing backwards, "as witches say prayers." It
was only when I saw both the towers standing grey and quiet above the
grey and quiet town, and when I found that the light upon the wall
came from the street lamp below, that my head seemed to grow clearer,
and I knew that no bells were ringing, and that those I fancied I
heard were only the prolonged echoes of a bad dream.

I was very glad that it was so, and I did not exactly wish for war or
the plague to come back; and yet the more I heard of Fred's tales the
more restless I grew, because the days were so dull, and because we
never went anywhere, and nothing ever happened.




CHAPTER VII.