Suddenly, while they
were watching the flashes of light, a column of flame rose toward the
sky, then another, and another--the morass was on fire in a dozen
places.
"Hell, and all devils!" shouted De Fervlans, springing toward his horse.
"The little monster has set the marsh-grass on fire, and it was I who
taught the devil's spawn how to use touchwood! Give chase to the
creature!"
But the order for a chase came too late. In ten minutes the reeds
growing about the hill were burning, and the demons were compelled to
use their spurs in order to speed their horses from the dangerous
conflagration.
They did not stop until they had reached the Valla plain--driven to
their mad gallop by the caricature of the "militiaman"!
"This is a pretty state of affairs!" grumbled De Fervlans. "Mire first,
then flames, bar our way. _Quis quid peccat, in eo punitur_--he who sins
will be punished by his sin! I sinned in teaching that monster to strike
fire. It has made us lose four more hours."
The four hours were of some consequence to the fugitive maid and Ludwig
Vavel.
Dawn broke before the demons found the road between the groups of hills,
and when they reached it, they still had before them that half of the
Hansag which is formed by a series of small lakes.
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