They had a full four miles walk before them; but the professor had an
ample old cotton umbrella that sheltered both himself and his pupil; so
they trudged manfully onward, cheering the way with lively talk instead
of overshadowing it with complaints.
"Black as pitch! not a star to be seen! but courage, my boy! we shall
enjoy the light of the fireside all the more when we get home," said the
professor.
"Yes! there's one star, professor, just rising,--rising away there on
the horizon beyond Brudenell Hall," said Ishmael.
"So there is a star, or--something! it looks more like the moon rising;
only there's no moon," said Morris, scrutinizing the small dull red
glare that hung upon the skirts of the horizon.
"It looks more like a bonfire than either, just now," added the boy, as
the lurid red light suddenly burst into flame.
"It is! it is a large fire!" cried the professor, as the whole sky
became suddenly illuminated with a red glare.
"It is Brudenell Hall in flames!" exclaimed Ishmael Worth, in horror.
"Let us hurry on and see if we can do any good."