The house at which I stayed
last night is already burnt to the ground. You had better stay here
for the present, I think. There is no fear of the fire extending
beyond the City. Should you find that it does so, pack my clothes in
the valises, take the horses down to Sevenoaks, and remain at the
Earl's until you hear from me."
Having arranged this, Cyril went down to the Savoy stairs, where he
found the boat waiting for him, and then they rowed back to London
Bridge, where, the force of the tide being now abated, they were able
to row through and get to the _Good Venture_.
They had but little sleep that night. Gradually the fire worked its
way eastward until it was abreast of them. The roaring and crackling
of the flames was prodigious. Here and there the glare was
diversified by columns of a deeper red glow, showing where
warehouses, filled with pitch, tar, and oil, were in flames. The
heavy crashes of falling buildings were almost incessant.
Occasionally they saw a church tower or steeple, that had stood for a
time black against the glowing sky, become suddenly wreathed in
flames, and, after burning for a time, fall with a crash that could
be plainly heard above the general roar.
"Surely such a fire was never seen before!" Captain Dave said.
"Not since Rome was burnt, I should think," Cyril replied.
"How long was that ago, Cyril? I don't remember hearing about it."
"'Tis fifteen hundred years or so since then, Captain Dave; but the
greater part of the city was destroyed, and Rome was then many times
bigger than London.
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