A very tall and powerful man stood at their head.
"Come on," he said, "why do you hesitate?
Let us finish with them." And he rushed forward.
Malcolm had his pistol lying on the sill of the loophole covering him, and when the peasant had run ten paces he fired, and the man fell headlong.

The others stopped, and a second shot took effect among them.
With a yell of terror they hurled the brands towards the pile and fled.
Most of the brands fell short, others missed their aim, but from his loophole Malcolm saw that one had fallen on to the outside faggot of the pile.
Almost instantly a heavy stone fell in the snow close by, another, and another.

Malcolm stood with his eyes fixed on the brand.

The twigs against which it leaned were catching, and the flames began to shoot up.
Higher and higher they rose, and a shout of triumph from the peasants told how keenly they were also watching.

Still the heavy stones continued to fall.