ave a word with his
widowed sister.

The lawyer paced up and down in the cool night, trying to combine two
things which do not necessarily go together, warmth and wakefulness.
Everything was so quiet, that he seemed to hear Timotheus and Sylvanus
pacing about rapidly like himself, when suddenly a little spark of fire
appeared at the far end of the verandah towards the stables. Cautiously,
under cover of bushes he approached the spot, but saw nothing, although
he smelt fire. Then he knelt down and peered under the flower laden
structure. The light was there, growing. In a moment it became a flame,
and, as he rushed to the spot, a lad fell into his arms. Clutching his
collar with his left hand in spite of kicks and scratches, he hauled his
prisoner back to the verandah, and, thrusting in his right arm beneath
the floor, drew out the blazing rags and threw them on the gravel walk
or on the grass until he was sure that not one remained. Some watcher at
the front window had alarmed the guard-room, for out tumbled its
occupants, and the lad was secured by Nash, and handed over to the
Captain and Mr. Errol. Calling to Toner to keep an eye on the whole
front, the detective, taking in the situation, hastened to the stables
along with the lawyer, while the Squire and Mr. Perrowne went round the
back way on the same errand. No guard was visible, and there was fire in
two places, both happily outside sheds, one abutting on the garden
fence, the other farther to the right. The Squire went for water-pails,
while Nash and the veteran followed the course of the incendiaries
towards the bush guarded by Rufus. But the lawyer and the parson,
seizing stout poles, which were apparently Tryphena's clothes props,
knocked the blazing sheds to pieces with them, and scattered the burning
boards over the ground. Before the water came, the report of a rifle, a
fowling piece, and of several pistol shots, rang through the air. No
more signs of fire were discovered, so the water was poured upon the
still burning boards, and the firemen waited for the report of the
pursuers. While thus waiting, they heard a groan, and, going to the
place whence it proceeded, discovered Timotheus, with a gag plaster on
his mouth and an ugly wound on the back of his head, lying close to the
garden fence below the fired shed. Some water on his face revived him,
and at the same time moistened the plaster, but as it would not come
off, Coristine cut it open with his penkni