ments. They waited in breathless suspense, for at present all was gloom in the fated apartment. Half an hour elapsed;—all was darkness yet. Another quarter of an hour passed on;—and still there was no light. The holy father's indignation was aroused against his companion, because his heart beat so strongly, and his breath came so short and painfully, that he prevented his reverence hearing. But soon there came a light, and a merry voice singing, followed by a shout of laughter. They had evidently assembled.
"Lay a thick train from the doorway across the court-yard," exclaimed the priest. "But stay, I will do it myself, effectually."
The hitherto concealed light was carefully produced; the priest stooped down and applied it to the powder; a rush of air was instantaneously felt. The fire leaped wildly to the door—to the table—to the room; and with a hiss—a blinding flame—a thundering crash—the house was blown to fragments, and all within it and around it was a heap of blackened, smoking ruin!
Impotent atrocity! Futile revenge! The two miscreants were too busy with their own machinations, to perceive that, some
