She then seated herself and watched the descent of the moon; with eager eyes she waited till the last faint rim sunk beneath the horizon—till the last quivering ray shot upward, and then left the sky only to the watchful stars.
Then she arose and lighted the beacon-fire.
Quick as lightning shot up the lurid flame, towering in the night sky, gleaming, and flashing, and lightening the old woods far and wide.
CHAPTER XXI.
DEAD ASHES.
John Bonyton and his band of warriors had ascended nearly to the foot of the Pejipscot Falls, where they waited till the first streak of light should send them on their deadly path. The moon had set, and the stars were dimmed by dark clouds, which flitted across the sky, and now and then disburdened themselves in heavy drops. Gusts of wind swayed the old woods to and fro, and sent the autumnal leaves whirling and eddying on the wings of the fitful blast.
The sagamore had not slept, but his chiefs were couched under the overhanging trees, amid the dense underbrush, and all were buried in profound slumber, while he had whiled away the hours in thought of her who had been to him the one star in the sky of his destiny. He knew that Acashee would never reveal the secret of the fate of Hope; therefore he had counseled to liberate her, and note in what direction her steps should lead, and he well divined that there Hope would be found.
While thus the solitary man gnawed his heart in vain regrets, and sorrowful fancies, he became aware of a movement further up the stream. Now and then a spark shot upward, and was lost amid the white spray of the falls; then another, and another struggled amid smoke and vapor, and was lost; till at last one fierce volume of flame towered upward, revealing not only his own encampment, but the vast old woods, and the river pouring itself, an ocean of water, from its mountain-hight into the abysm below.
The warriors sprung to their feet, and gazed in wonder, not unmingled with dismay, but the sagamore motioned them back to their covert, while he should learn the secret of this unexpected beacon-fire. Emerging from the covert of the woods, he was aware of a white form that flitted before him. Hurrying onward, he leaped from rock to rock, vainly striving to reach the object, which still eluded his grasp. At length, having reached an angle of the stream, the figure turned.
“Hope! Hope!” exclaimed John Bonyton, stretching out his arms.