She resumed her climb and presently reached the summit. Only another turn in the road and she would come in sight of the huge bonfire, blazing and crackling as it sent its message of distress far out to sea. Impatient to see it, she hastened her steps, almost running, in her anxiety to get there. Round the bend she went until, breathless, she emerged on the broad plateau.
Suddenly she stopped and turned pale. Could she have mistaken the road? No, this was the place. But where was the signal-fire? The spot where it had burned night and day all these weeks was plainly visible. The grass and ground all around was charred and blackened by the flames, but of the fire itself nothing remained. Some giant strength had wreaked its fury upon it, scattered the glowing embers right and left, drowned it out with water. The signal-fire was extinguished!
Pale and trembling, Grace stood rooted to the ground, trying to understand. Who had done this? Why had he done it? Of course, only one person could have done it. Was this the explanation of Armitage's long absence the previous night? Why had he scattered and drowned out their signal-fire?
Her face flushed with anger. Her apprehension gave place to indignation. By what right had he presumed to take this step? If he were willing to sacrifice himself, what right had he to sacrifice her?
Turning on her steps, she hastened down the hill and soon reached their encampment. He was there to greet her, standing with folded arms, silent, as if he knew where she had been and was awaiting the first outburst of her reproaches and anger.
CHAPTER XVI.
"The fire is out!" she cried, as she came within speaking distance.
"I know," he answered stolidly. His face was expressionless, not a muscle moved. An observer might have mistaken him for a figure cast in bronze.
"How did it go out?" demanded Grace, trying to control herself.