First a fragile wooden summer-house caught the blaze of a torch and flared up; then a villa itself, and another and another.

The flames shot higher and higher, great glowing, wavering pyramids of heat, roaring and crackling, flinging a red circle of glowing light in toward the mainland by Cumae, and shimmering out over the bay toward Prochyta.

Overhead was the inky dome of the heavens, and below fire; fire, and men with passions unreined.
Demetrius stood on the terrace of the burning villa of the Lentuli, barely himself out of range of the raging heat.

As Agias came near to him, the gilded Medusa head emblazoned on his breastplate glared out; the loose scarlet mantle he wore under his armour was red as if dipped in hot blood; he seemed the personification of Ares, the destroyer, the waster of cities.

The pirate was gazing fixedly on the blazing wreck and ruin.