of the
bishop's face, and the question as to the 'wind,' at once suggested to
me the idea that a French fleet had arrived in the bay, and that the
awful tidings were neither more nor less than the announcement of our
reinforcement.

'From the north-west,' repeated the bishop; 'then, with God's blessing,
we may be spared.' And so saying, he arose from the table, and with an
effort that showed that the strength to do so had only just returned to
him.

'Colonel Charost, a word with you!' said he, leading the way into an
adjoining room.

'What is it?--what has happened?--what can it be?' was asked by each in
turn. And now groups gathered at the windows, which all looked into the
court of the building, now crowded with people, soldiers, servants, and
country-folk gazing earnestly towards the roof of the castle.

'What's the matter, Terry?' asked one of the bishop's sons, as he threw
open the window.

'Tis the chimbley on fire, Master Robert,' said the man; 'the kitchen
chimbley, wid those divils of Frinch!'

I cannot describe the burst of laughter that followed the explanation.

So much terror for so small a catastrophe was inconceivable; and whether
we thought of Andrew's horrified face, or the worthy bishop's pious
thanksgiving as to the direction of the wind, we could scarcely refrain
from another outbreak of mirth. Colonel Charost made his appearance at
the instant, and although his step was hurried, and his look severe,
there was nothing of agitation or alarm on his features.

'Turn out the guard, Truchet, without arms,' said he. 'Come with me,
Tiernay--an awkward business enough,' whispered he, as he led me along.
'These follows have set fire to the kitchen chimney, and we have three
hundred barrels of gunpowder in the cave!' Nothing could be more easy
and unaffected than the way he spoke this; and I actually stared at
him, to see if his coldness was a mere pretence, but far from it--every
gesture and every word showed the most perfect self-possession, with a
prompt readiness for action.

When we reached the court, the bustle and confusion had reached its
highest, for, as the wind lulled, large masses of inky smoke hung, like
a canopy, overhead, through which a forked flame darted at intervals,
with that peculiar furnacelike roar that accompanies a jet of fire in
confined places. At times, too, as the soot ignited, great showers of
bright sparks floated upwards, and afterwards fell, like a fiery
rain, on ev