‘What is it?--what has happened?--what can it be?’ was asked by each in turn. And now groups gathered at the windows, which all looked into the court of the building, now crowded with people, soldiers, servants, and country-folk gazing earnestly towards the roof of the castle. ‘What’s the matter, Terry?’ asked one of the bishop’s sons, as he threw open the window. ‘Tis the chimbley on fire, Master Robert,’ said the man; ‘the kitchen chimbley, wid those divils of Frinch!’ I cannot describe the burst of laughter that followed the explanation. So much terror for so small a catastrophe was inconceivable; and whether we thought of Andrew’s horrified face, or the worthy bishop’s pious thanksgiving as to the direction of the wind, we could scarcely refrain from another outbreak of mirth. Colonel Charost made his appearance at the instant, and although his step was hurried, and his look severe, there was nothing of agitation or alarm on his features. ‘Turn out the guard, Truchet, without arms,’ said he. ‘Come with me, Tiernay--an awkward business enough,’ whispered he, as he led me along. ‘These follows have set fire to the kitchen chimney, and we have three hundred barrels of gunpowder in the cave!’ Nothing could be more easy and unaffected than the way he spoke this; and I actually stared at him, to see if his coldness was a mere pretence, but far from it--every gesture and every word showed the most perfect self-possession, with a prompt readiness for action. When we reached the court, the bustle and confusion had reached its highest, for, as the wind lulled, large masses of inky smoke hung, like a canopy, overhead, through which a forked flame darted at intervals, with that peculiar furnacelike roar that accompanies a jet of fire in confined places. At times, too, as the soot ignited, great showers of bright sparks floated upwards, and afterwards fell, like a fiery rain, on every side. The country-people, who had flocked in from the neighbourhood, were entirely occupied with these signs, and only intent upon saving the remainder of the house, which they believed in great peril, totally unaware of the greater and more imminent danger close beside them. Already they had placed ladders against the walls, and, with ropes and buckets, were preparing to ascend, when Truchet marched in with his company, in fatigue-jackets, twenty sappers with shovels accompanying them. ‘Clear the courtyard, now,’ said Charost, ‘and leave this matter to us.’ The order was obeyed somewhat reluctantly, it is true, and at last we stood the sole occupants of the spot, the bishop being the only civilian present, he having refused to quit the spot, unless compelled by force.