Audrey

The silver pomp of the night began to be oppressive to him. There was

beauty, but it was a beauty cold and distant, infinitely withdrawn from

man and his concerns. Woods and mountains held aloof, communing with the

stars. They were kindred and of one house; it was man who was alien, a

stranger and alone. The hilltop cared not that he lay thereon; the grass

would grow as greenly when he was in his grave; all his tragedies since

time began he might reenact there below, and the mountains would not bend

to look.

He flung his arm across his eyes to shut out the moonlight, and tried to

sleep. Finding the attempt a vain one, and that the night pressed more and

more heavily upon him, he sat up with the intention of shaking the negro

awake, and so providing himself with other company than his own thoughts.

His eyes had been upon the mountains, but now, with the sudden movement,

he faced the eastern horizon and a long cleft between the hills. Far down

this opening something was on fire, burning fiercely and redly. Some one

must have put torch to the forest; and yet it did not burn as trees burn.

It was like a bonfire ... it was a bonfire in a clearing! There were not

woods about it, but a field--and the glint of water-The negro, awakened by foot and voice, sprang up, and stood bewildered

beside his master. "It is the valley that we have been seeking, Juba,"

said the latter, speaking rapidly and low. "That burning pile is the

cabin, and 't is like that there are Indians between us and it! Leave the

horses; we shall go faster without them. Look to the priming of your gun,

and make no noise. Now!"

Rapidly descending the hill, they threw themselves into the woods at its

base. Here they could not see the fire, but now and then, as they ran,

they caught the glow, far down the lines of trees. Though they went

swiftly they went warily as well, keeping an eye and ear open and muskets

ready. But there was no sound other than their own quick footfalls upon

the floor of rotting leaves, or the eager brushing of their bodies through

occasional undergrowth; no sight but the serried trees and the checkered

light and shade upon the ground.

They came to the shallow stream that flashed through the valley, and

crossing it found themselves on cleared ground, with only a long strip of

corn between them and what had been a home for English folk. It was that

no longer: for lack of fuel the flames were dying down; there was only a

charred and smoking pile, out of which leaped here and there a red tongue.