it'll be worth his while to step back in it when I've done with
it."

The poor little rotten roof, mossgrown as it was, did not burn as
rapidly as Peter could have wished, but by dint of much coaxing and a
plentiful sprinkling of paraffin, the fire at last gained ground, and
a dense smoke began to issue from the smouldering thatch. Peter
coughed and choked, and at last calling out to his men that he would
be with them again as soon as that part of the job was over, climbed
up the rocky hillside, pausing only when he had reached the summit,
and turning round with a long gasping breath. The air was clearer
there, and it pleased him to look down from this eminence on his
destructive work. The smoke of the burning roof hung over the little
dwelling as though to hide its degradation; jets of flame leaped
through it now and then; from time to time one of his men approached
with the bottle of paraffin, but the rest stood together looking on,
somewhat sullenly. Farther down the lane a few women and old folks had
gathered together; from his altitude Peter watched them, marking their
eager gestures and imagining the horror and disgust in their faces.
"Let them say what they like," he muttered to himself grimly, "I'll
not leave a bit o' the place standin'. Aye! they may curse an' swear
as much as they like, it doesn't hurt me."

Suddenly he bethought him how Mike had threatened him before setting
fire to his rick; his hard-heartedness would bring a curse upon him,
the boy had said. Peter asked himself now, with a dry chuckle, upon
whom the curse had fallen most heavily. It was certainly a piece of
bad luck to lose his splendid rick, but he had paid the villains well
out for it. There was Mike in gaol, the old people living on the
charity of their neighbours, with no prospect before them but to end
their days in the workhouse; their goods scattered, their cabin razed
to the ground--who was the most accursed?

Ha! one of those women down there had fallen on her knees and was
raising her hands to heaven; another crone was shaking her fist in his
direction. Let them pray and let them threaten--Peter was not afraid
of anything or anybody, neither God nor man--not of the devil himself!

A sudden sound of stones falling just behind him made him turn round
quickly. He could see nothing, but a curious scraping and rustling
were still to be heard. He was standing almost beneath a low stone
wall which traversed the summit. The sound app