Then, suddenly, from within the ruin flared up a vivid conflagration, golden yellow, so brilliant as to light up the faces of all present turned to the speaker, and convert every leaf of every tree into a flake of gold.
Women shrieked, then were instantaneously hushed, hushed as in death, for, standing on the table behind Saltren, they saw Patience Kite, wild, ragged, with her hair about her shoulders, and an arm extended, pointing. Saltren, also, by the vivid glare, saw Lord Lamerton under the Scotch fir, his face catching full the reflection, as if illumined by the sun.
"Do you ask his name?" he shouted. "He is there." He also pointed, and all the while was unconscious that the wild woman near him was indicating the same man.
Then the whole assembly turned to look, and for a moment saw Lord Lamerton.
For a moment only, for the flame fell, and cries, piercing, thrilling every nerve, distracted the attention of the crowd. A woman had fallen in convulsions on the ground, declaring that she had seen the Devil.
