A dozen hands busied themselves in applying the torch to the
devoted mass--howling over it, at every successive burst of flame that
went up into the dark atmosphere, a savage yell of triumph that tallied
well with the proceeding.
"Hurrah!"
The scene was one of indescribable confusion. The rioters danced about
the blaze like so many frenzied demons. Strange, no one attempted to
appropriate the property that must have been a temptation to all.
Our pedler, though he no longer strove to interfere, was by no means
insensible to the ruin of his stock in trade. It was calculated to move
to pity, in any other region, to behold him as he stood in the doorway,
stupidly watching the scene, while the big tears were slowly gathering
in his eyes, and falling down his bronzed and furrowed cheeks. The
rough, hard, unscrupulous man can always weep for himself. Whatever the
demerits of the rogue, our young traveller above stairs, would have
regarded him as the victim of a too sharp justice.
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