The Fire at Brudenell Hall

Seize then the occasion; by the forelock take
That subtle power the never halting time,
Lest a mere moment's putting off should make
Mischance almost as heavy as a crime.

--Wordsworth.

Through the threefold darkness of night, clouds, and rain they hurried
on towards that fearful beacon light which flamed on the edge of the
horizon.

The rain, which continued to pour down in torrents, appeared to dampen
without extinguishing the fire, which blazed and smoldered at intervals.

"Professor?" said the boy, as they toiled onward through the storm.

"Well, young Ishmael?"

"It seems to me the fire is inside the house."

"Why so, young Ishmael?"

"Because if it wasn't, this storm would put it out at once! Why, if it
had been the roof that caught from a burning chimney this driving rain
would have quenched it in no time."

"The roof couldn't catch, young Ishmael; it is all slate."

"Oh!" ejaculated Ishmael, as they increased their speed. They proceeded
in silence for a few minutes, keeping their eyes fixed on the burning
building, when Ishmael suddenly exclaimed: "The house is burning inside, professor! You can see now the windows
distinctly shaped out in fire against the blackness of the building!"

"Just so, young Ishmael!"

"Now, then, professor, we must run on as fast as ever we can if we
expect to be of any use. George Washington was always prompt in times of
danger. Remember the night he crossed the Delaware. Come, professor, let
us run on!"

"Oh yes, young Ishmael, it is all very well for you to say--run on! but
how the deuce am I to do it, with the rain and wind beating this old
umbrella this way and that way, until, instead of being a protection to
our persons, it is a hindrance to our progress!" said the professor, as
he tried in vain to shelter himself and his companion from the fury of
the floods of rain.