The red tongues of fire rushed up and
flickered from corbel to corbel and from tablet to tablet, and crept
along the floor, setting in a blaze the seats and benches. The dance
of the shadows passed away, and the dance of the fires began. The
troopers fell back towards the door in the southern wall, and watched
those yellow dancers springing hither and thither.
For a time the altar stood safe and apart in the midst of its white
light; the eyes of the troopers turned upon it. The abbot whom they
had thought dead had risen to his feet and now stood before it with
the crucifix lifted in both hands high above his head. Suddenly he
cried with a loud voice, 'Woe unto all who smite those who dwell
within the Light of the Lord, for they shall wander among the
ungovernable shadows, and follow the ungovernable fires!' And having
so cried he fell on his face dead, and the brazen crucifix rolled
down the steps of the altar. The smoke had now grown very thick, so
that it drove the troopers out into the open air. Before them were
burning houses. Behind them shone the painted windows of the Abbey
filled with saints and martyrs, awakened, as from a sacred trance,
into an angry and animated life. The eyes of the troopers were
dazzled, and for a while could see nothing but the flaming faces of
saints and martyrs.
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