He had smelled it too often in the last two years to be mistaken.

It was smoke, and Bellevue had been set on fire in several places.
He inhaled it once or twice and then he saw again the shadowy figure flitting down to the passage and to a small door that, unnoticed by the soldiers, opened on the kitchen garden in the rear of the house.
Dick never acted more promptly.

Instantly he fired his pistol into the ceiling, the report roaring in the confined spaces of the house, and then shouting with all his might: "Fire! Fire! Fire!" as he dashed down the passage he ran through the little door, which the intruder had left open, and pursued him in the darkness and rain into the garden.

There was a flash ahead of him and a bullet whistled past his ear, but he merely increased his speed and raced in the direction of the flash.

As he ran he heard behind him a tremendous uproar, the voices and tread of hundreds of soldiers, awakened suddenly, and he knew that they would rush through Bellevue in search of the fires.
But it was Dick's impulse to capture the daring intruder who would destroy the house over their heads.