ck right at my
eyes, which had got used to the darkness in the passage. There was the
pillar of fire, as bright and straight and amazingly high as ever, not a
trace of the car to be seen in the midst; but silhouetted against the
yellow screen of flame was a tall black figure which I recognized as
Brown's. He was standing still, looking calmly on, _actually with his
hands in his pockets_, instead of trying to put out the fire, and I was
dumbfounded, for always before he had shown himself so resourceful.

I stood still, too, a minute, for I _was_ surprised. Aunt Mary was
having hysterics in one of our windows which she'd thrown open; and
Monsieur Talleyrand had come close behind me, it seemed, though I didn't
know that then.

I heard the queer clucking and roaring of the fire which was drinking
gallons of petrol, but the only thing I _really_ thought of was Brown
with his hands in his pockets while my car was burning up. I didn't love
it--at least I hadn't, and the night before I had behaved to it not at
all in a gentlemanly manner, but I couldn't have stood by like that to
watch it die without moving a finger.

"Oh, Brown!" I gasped out, running to him, so close that the fire was
hot on my face. "Oh, Brown, how _can_ you? Anybody would think that you
were glad."

"And he is!" cried a voice in French at my back. "It was he who set your
automobile on fire, mademoiselle. I myself, who tell you, saw him do
it." I whisked round, and there stood Monsieur Talleyrand, looking very
picturesque in an almost theatrical _deshabille_, with the firelight
shining on him, just as if it were a scene on the stage.

Brown faced round too, and at the same instant, the fire having drunk
the last drop of petrol, the flame suddenly died down, and there fell a
curious silence after the roaring of the fire, which had been like a
blast. The woodwork of the car, the hood and the upper part, as well as
the wooden wheels, had all disappeared--the flame had swallowed and
digested them. Of my varnished and dignified car there remained only a
heap of twisted bits of iron, glowing a dull red. In the grey dawn we
must have looked like witches at some secret and unholy rite. The going
out of the light had an odd effect upon us three. When Monsieur
Talleyrand launched his accusation at Brown, he had thrown up his chin,
and the light, striking on his eyeballs, made them glow like red sparks.
But with the dying of the light, the flash in his eyes died t