lying down beside his father, and edging
him along a few feet, before going back to close the opening in the
stairs.

He paused for a few moments, feeling now that he was safe, and gazed
upon the ruddy smoke clouds, listened to the roar and crackle of the
flames, which were now within a few feet; and as he gazed, he could see
that the sharp draught rushing by him drove the flame and smoke back,
and fanned the former till it glowed more brightly.

But there was no time to lose. Seizing the woodwork, he drew it over
his head, to find to his horror that already the heat had warped the
wood so that it was hard to move; and, feeling that no time was to be
lost, he rolled himself along, forced his father on and on, till the
horizontal shallow passage was at an end--a passage already growing
heated above where the fire licked the boards, and then, standing
upright and breathing freely, he paused to think of his next proceeding.

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

IN UTTER DARKNESS.

It was not easy to think and lay plans in such a position as that in
which Scarlett Markham found himself. His temples throbbed painfully,
his head swam, and at every exertion it seemed to him as if hot molten
lead were rolling from side to side of his head. But the cool damp air
came by him in a continuous draught, and feeling now that before long
the narrow passages and the little chamber beyond must certainly grow
heated in the conflagration, perhaps be swept away in the general
destruction, he set himself the task of getting Sir Godfrey upon his
back, and, after several failures, found that his first step in that
direction must be to unbuckle and cast aside the defensive armour his
father wore.

This done, the steel falling on the stone floor of the passage with a
heavy clang, he once more tried, successfully, and, bending beneath the
weight of his load, traversed the narrow passage, with a dull low roar
sounding in a muffled way on his left.

The air came fresher and fresher as he pressed on in the intense
darkness, till, recalling by an effort of memory every step he and Fred
had formerly taken, he felt his way into the little chamber, having
drawn his sword and used it for a staff, and to guide his way.

How well he recalled the shape of that little hiding-place, with its
dust and cobwebs, and the colourless strands of ivy hanging down! And
as he paused here, asking himself whether he should stay for the
present, a silent answer was giv