herself and him that if 'Isaiah had come along with them they
would never have got into such a fix.' Mrs. Saddler Mr.
Falkirk peremptorily silenced; the others he soothed as best
he might; and all the while Wych Hazel watched the signs
without, and followed the climber in the pine tree, following
him in his venturesome ascent and descent, which were both
made with no lack of daring. He was on the ground at last,
swinging himself from the end of a pine branch which he had
compelled into his service; he came straight to Mr. Falkirk,
heated, but mentally as cool as ever.

'I see our way,' he said, 'I am going on the box myself. Don't
be concerned. I have driven a post-coach in England.'

He looked across to Wych Hazel, as he spoke, and his eye
carried the promise again. Wych Hazel met his look, though
with no answer in her own; fear, or self-control, or something
back of both, made the very lines of her face still; only a
sort of shiver of feeling passed over them as he said, 'Don't
be concerned.' All this passes in a second; then Rollo is on
the box with the stage driver and the stage is in motion
again. But it is motion straight on to where Wych Hazel has
seen that the smoke is thickest. The horses go fast; they know
that another hand has the reins; the ground is swiftly
travelled over. Now the puffs of smoke roll out round and
defined from the burning woodland; and then, above the rattle
of wheels and tread of hoofs, is heard another sound,--a
spiteful snapping and crackling, faint but increasing. Can the
air be borne?--it is hard to breathe; and flame, yes, flame is
leaping from the dried leaves and curling out here and there