In the glare that lit up the broad roadway, a maddened, half-intoxicated mob of Dancers, breaking out into screams and maniacal laughter, circled in full view of the burning châlet, until the galloping horses of the fire engines, approaching from the north, drove them, still leaping and gyrating, southward towards Kensington. Fire engines now approached from every quarter, but it was obvious that little could be done to save the trees. Every thirsty bush served as a conductor for the greedy element. The furnace spread from bough to bough; below, the fire fastened on fragments and twigs lying on the parched surface of the grass, curling its way snake-like to the nearest trunk; then, with a sharp hiss, climbed to the lower branches, licking them eagerly until, with one united and terrific hiss, the brown and shrivelled foliage combined to make a pyramid of fire. Tree after tree became thus outlined in a mighty burst of flame, then lapsed into smoke and blackness, still revealed here and there with glowing branches. Sometimes the fire commenced its work high in the loftier foliage; for now the upper air was filled with charred and glowing embers borne north and eastward by the rising wind. In the rush of sparks and smoke above the swaying tree-tops, it seemed as if the weird Valkyrie sisters rode triumphant. Bushes and branches were hastily torn down where possible, and bands of people made frantic efforts to beat out the fire ere it obtained an unconquerable hold. But deviltry was loose that night, and, however the first fire may have been occasioned, the distances at which new outbreaks were discovered pointed conclusively to deliberate acts. In all, seven men were seized--taken red-handed in the act of causing separate fires. Four of the prisoners wore the symbol of the League. Towards morning, a heavy downpour of rain extinguished the last sparks of the conflagration. It had come too late to save the trees, and all that the fire brigade had been able to achieve was the preservation of Kensington Palace from more than partial destruction. Dawn crept, frowning, over the dreary scene, the black ghost of its former beauty--a wilderness of ashes; above which the charred branches of denuded trees waved mournful arms to greet the mournful day. CHAPTER XVIII ALDWYTH ASKS A QUESTION Less than thirty miles from the monster city, now festering and malodorous under the September sun, high in a breeze-swept garden, Aldwyth Westwood, with a book upon her knees, sat gazing at the fleecy clouds. Slowly they sailed across the sky, casting deep shadows on the fields and woods. Anon the darkened tracts of country again were bathed in brilliant sunshine, and, far as the eye could reach, the face of Nature smiled.