“Now,” said he, “is the reek of a hundred fires turned into this hall or whatever it be, and I am like to smother,” and then the noise of burning caught his ear and he knew that the place was on fire. Half stupid still, he arose to his feet and staggered across the floor to the table and found water, and drank, for his throat seemed all aglow like to a furnace. As best he might he went stoitrin across the hall and felt along the walls for the door, but when he came to it found that it was locked. Then he pushed against it with his shoulder, but it stood steadfast, and he sank down beside it and sat upon the ground, for his brain was not quick, and he could not think what to do to get forth. Again he arose and went round the hall and found at length a pole-axe; with this he tried to prise the door open, but in vain. Then, seeing the fire so quickly growing, he took the axe by the heft and began to hew at the stout oak. His strokes were at first feeble, but at length the work stirred the life in him and the blows soon fell with regular stroke and grew in weight, so that the planks sent forth a shower of splinters and rent and parted till at length there was a great hole yawning in the middle of them. Then Feargus became aware that there were men outside, for a dozen burning faggots were shot in through the hole. At this he was wrath and remembered what had passed, seeing that he had been poisoned and betrayed. He fastened the buckles of his byrny, and, finding there were so many foes at the door, climbed up to one of the windows and looked forth, but the fire had now a hold on the more part of the hall, and only the hole in the door kept him from suffocation. Outside he saw men stationed around the burning building to prevent his escape, and the chiefs themselves standing around the door. Among them were Edmund and the brothers of Osbert, and they had heaped faggots up against the walls all round the building. He returned to the hall and, lifting the skins which lay as a covering on the seats, he wrapped them about his arms and legs and feet and body and, tying them securely, took a huge faggot which the thanes had cast into the hall, and went to the door and struck a few blows with the pole-axe. He then mounted to the window on the side opposite to that on which the thanes stood, and sprang outside among the burning faggots. The skins kept his feet from scath, and it was but a moment before he had dashed through them, and, gripping the burning brand in the one hand and the axe in the other, he ran lightly round the corner of the building and, with fragments of burning wood sticking to his helm, and the hairy skins which covered him alight in many places, with a fierce cry burst like a demon of the fire upon his astonished foes. There were Osbert’s brethren, Thorkill and Osric, standing with the traitor thane, Edmund, while two soldiers of the lowest class stood one on either side the doorway. As they turned to meet him Feargus thrust the red