CHAPTER XI
"MOVED"
"Mr. Yocomb," I said, as we mounted the piazza, "what is the cause of the smoke rising above yonder mountain to the east of us? I have noticed it several times this afternoon, and it seems increasing."
"That mountain was on fire on Saturday. I hoped the rain of last night would put it out, but it was a light shower, and the fire is under headway again. It now seems creeping up near the top of the mountain, for I think I see a faint light."
"I do distinctly; the mountain begins to remind me of a volcano."
"The moon will rise before very long, and you may be treated to a grand sight if the fire burns, as I fear it will."
"This is a day of fate," I said, laughing, "and almost any event that could possibly happen would not surprise me."
"It has seemed a very quiet day to me," said the old gentleman. "Neither mother nor any one on the high seat had a message for us this morning, and this afternoon I took a very long nap. If thee had not come and stirred us up a little, and Emily Warren had not laughed at us both, I would call it almost a dull day, as far as any peaceful day can be dull. Such days, however, are quite to my mind, and thee'll like 'em better when thee sees my age."
"I'm inclined to think," I replied, "that the great events of life would rarely make even an item in a newspaper."
Mrs. Yocomb looked as if she understood me, but Miss Warren remarked, with a mischievous glance: