e fire, alas!

'It will burn to the ground,' George remarked, as he stood there with
glasses to his eyes. 'They are trying to save the west wing, but I doubt
if they will.'

'Oh George, let me look! I never thought of using glasses! Why, you can
see the people running about with buckets!' cried Sarah.

'It feels like a bit of myself gone; but you don't care, of course,' he
remarked, as he reluctantly tore himself away to go down and tell his
father.

'I do care. And, oh George, I'm awfully sorry for father! What will he do
or say?' cried his sister.

'I don't know. But how did mother take it?' he asked.

'She said it was God's will. Somehow, I don't think it surprised her; she
seemed to expect a disaster as soon as she knew about these foreigners
being brought in, and I don't think she'll care if only father is safe,'
said Sarah.

'Poor mother; she doesn't think of herself at all. Still, I know the
place is heavily insured. Father is too cautious a man not to see to
that, though he'll never get those pictures or their value back again,
nor his plate. I must try to break it to him; but it isn't a thing one
can break,' said George.

'Well, boy, what's this story? Any truth in it? More trees burnt?' asked
Mr Clay.

'They've done worse this time, father; they have managed to set fire to
the house. But Uncle Howroyd is working for all he's worth, and so are
his men, so let us hope they'll save the valuables,' said George.

He spoke so calmly and collectedly that his father failed to grasp the
extent of the calamity.

'I don't rightly understand. Is it the house that's on fire, and which
part?' he demanded. Evidently he only imagined that it was some small
outbreak which would soon be got under.

George hesitated. 'It's got a good hold of the house, sir--the fire, I
mean; but we can build it up again.'

'Build it up again? Build up Balmoral again? You don't know what you're
talking about. There's a million sunk in that house,' he cried angrily,
and yet he did not believe them till he saw George's pitying look.

'It's not really bad, my lad?' he asked.

'Yes, father, it's pretty bad; but the house is insured.'

The millionaire gave a yell of rage. 'If they've done it, by heaven they
shall pay for it!' And he made a dash for the front entrance.

CHAPTER XXV.

'A BAD BUSINESS.'

After a moment of consternation, Sarah and her brother followed their
father, and arrived at the front gate in time to