"
Long before the train reached the depot, Arthur St. Claire, had
jumped from the rear car, and was flying across the meadow toward
his burning home, knowing ere he reached it that all was lost.
Timbers were falling, glass was melting, windows were blazing,
while at every step the sparks and cinders whirled in showers
around his head.
And where all this time was Richard? Victor was asking that
question--Victor, just arrived, and followed by the whole
household of Collingwood. They were the last to waken, and they
came with headlong haste; but Victor's longer strides outran them
all, and when Arthur appeared, he was asking frantically for his
master. The negroes in their fright had forgotten him entirely,
and the first words which greeted Arthur were, "Mr. Harrington is
in the building!"
"Where? where?" he shrieked, darting away, and dragging Victor
with him.
"In Nina's room. He would sleep there," Victor answered, and with
another cry of horror, Arthur sprang to the rear of the building,
discovering that the stairs leading to the Den were comparatively
unharmed as yet.
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