"What a fire it is going to be!" answered Pomp, with a lurid smile. "Our new neighbors have brought us bad luck. All those woods are gone. The fire is sweeping up directly towards us—it will pass over all the mountain—nothing will be left." Yet he spoke with a lofty calmness that astonished Penn.
"And our friends!—Carl!—have you heard from them?"
"I have not seen Carl since he left the cave with you, nor any of Stackridge's people to-night."
"Then they are in the woods yet!"
"Yes; unless they have been wise enough to get out of them! I was just starting out to look for them.—Who comes there?"—poising his rifle.
"It's Carl!" exclaimed Penn, recognizing the confederate coat. But in an instant he saw his mistake.
"It is one of Ropes's men!" said Pomp. "He has discovered us—he shall die for setting my mountains on fire!"
"Hold!" Penn grasped his arm. "He is beckoning and calling!"
Pomp frowned as he lowered his rifle, and waited for the soldier to come up.
"What! is it you? I didn't know you in that dress, and came near shooting you, as you deserve, for wearing it!" And Pomp turned scornfully away.