So said, so done. As the crowd moved off, it might be noted that there were some audible murmurs of "Trevethlan for ever!" "Hurrah for Trevethlan!" showing that at least a portion of the assembly were thinking of what had happened in that hamlet a few hours before. And then the multitude divided itself spontaneously into various parties, some proceeding by the lanes and other byways, and some boldly crossing the country in twos and threes;--silent, but not so regular, as an army of ants. Meantime the storm, driven along by a high wind, came up the sky, and before the foremost of the marauders had reached the park wall of Pendarrel, the rain was falling in torrents, and the thunder rolling overhead. But these were trifles to the hardy assailants, who were now fairly on fire, and had a definite object before their eyes. They scaled the wall wherever they first found it, and advanced through the grounds towards the hall, scaring the deer with the unwonted invasion. At length they found themselves re-united for the most part in a semicircle, investing all one side of the house. Fair and stately it stood amidst the trim pleasure-grounds, reflecting the vivid flashes of lightning from its white walls and many windows, and offering, alas! too tempting a prize to the lawless band around it. Within, the household were collected about their fire-sides, listening to the uproar of the storm, and little deeming that a more terrible enemy was at hand. CHAPTER II. When tumult lately burst his prison door, And set plebeian thousands in a roar, When he usurped authority's just place, And dared to look his master in the face, Liberty blushed, and hung her drooping head, Beheld his progress with the deepest dread, Blushed that effects like these she should produce, Worse than the deeds of galley-slaves let loose: She loses in such scenes her very name, And fierce licentiousness must bear the blame. Cowper. "What can make the dogs bark in this manner?" exclaimed Mrs. Pendarrel to her husband and daughter. "Surely not the thunder." "I cannot tell what it is, my dear," answered her spouse, who was nearly asleep after his return from Bodmin, in spite of the external uproar. "I wish they and the thunder would both be quiet." Mildred went behind the curtains of a window. Thick as they were, the flashes of lightning had yet gleamed through them. "What a tremendous night!" she exclaimed. "Come from the window, Mildred," said Mrs. Pendarrel; "it is dangerous to stand there." "Ha!" cried the daughter, "there is fire. It cannot be the lightning! Mamma! Papa!" The urgency of her tone brought them both to the window. A red glare streamed over the lawn, and shone bright upon the dripping trees. Fire was there indeed.