After the first cry of surprise, neither spoke; across both their
minds rushed the certainty of death.
How long the terrible time that followed lasted, neither of them
ever knew. The sensation was that of being pounded to death. At one
moment they were together, then separated; now rolling over and
over in a sort of ball, then lifted up and cast down into the
bottom of the wheel with a crash; now with their heads highest, now
with their feet. It was like a terrible nightmare; but gradually
the sharp pain of the blows and falls were less vivid--a dull
sensation came over them--and both lost consciousness.
Rupert was the first to open his eyes, and for a time lay but in
dreamy wonder as to where he was, and what had happened. He seemed
to be lying under a great penthouse, with a red glow pervading
everything. Gradually his thoughts took shape, and he remembered
what had passed, and struggling painfully into a sitting position,
looked round.
The wheel no longer revolved; there was no longer the constant
splash of water. Indeed the wheel existed as a wheel no longer.
As he looked round the truth lighted upon him. The burning mill had
fallen across the wheel, crushing, at the top, the sides together.
The massive timber had given no further, and the wheel formed a
sort of roof, sloping from the outer wall, built solidly up against
it, to the opposite foot. Above, the timber of this wall glared and
flickered, but the soddened timber of the wheel could have resisted
a far greater amount of heat.
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