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The chateau burned; the nearest trees, laid hold of by the fire,

scorched and shrivelled; trees at a distance, fired by the four

fierce figures, begirt the blazing edifice with a new forest of

smoke. Molten lead and iron boiled in the marble basin of the

fountain; the water ran dry; the extinguisher tops of the towers

vanished like ice before the heat, and trickled down into four

rugged wells of flame. Great rents and splits branched out in the

solid walls, like crystallisation; stupefied birds wheeled about

and dropped into the furnace; four fierce figures trudged away,

East, West, North, and South, along the night-enshrouded roads,

guided by the beacon they had lighted, towards their next

destination. The illuminated village had seized hold of the

tocsin, and, abolishing the lawful ringer, rang for joy.