J.T.Maston was nearly roasted through his anxiety.

A fortnight after the casting an immense column of smoke was still soaring towards the sky, and the ground burnt the soles of the feet within a radius of 200 feet round the summit of Stony Hill.
The days went by; weeks followed them.

There were no means of cooling the immense cylinder.

It was impossible to approach it.

The members of the Gun Club were obliged to wait with what patience they could muster.
"Here we are at the 10th of August," said J.T.Maston one morning.