“At such a moment, Mr. Edwards, all earthly distinctions end,” whispered Elizabeth; “persuade John to move nearer to us—let us die together.”
“I cannot—he will not stir,” returned the youth, in the same horridly still tones. “He considers this as the happiest moment of his life, he is past seventy, and has been decaying rapidly for some time; he received some injury in chasing that unlucky deer, too, on the lake, Oh! Miss Temple, that was an unlucky chase, indeed! it has led, I fear, to this awful scene.”
The smile of Elizabeth was celestial. “Why name such a trifle now?—at this moment the heart is dead to all earthly emotions!”
“If anything could reconcile a man to this death,” cried the youth, “it would be to meet it in such company!”
“Talk not so, Edwards; talk not so,” interrupted Miss Temple. “I am unworthy of it, and it is unjust to your self. We must die; yes—yes—we must die—it is the will of God, and let us endeavor to submit like his own children.”
“Die!” the youth rather shrieked than exclaimed, “no—no—no—there must yet be hope—you, at least, must-not, shall not die.”
“In what way can we escape?” asked Elizabeth, pointing with a look of heavenly composure toward the fire “Observe! the flame is crossing the barrier of wet ground—it comes slowly, Edwards, but surely. Ah! see! the tree! the tree is already lighted!”
Her words were too true. The heat of the conflagration had at length overcome the resistance of the spring, and the fire was slowly stealing along the half-dried moss; while a dead pine kindled with the touch of a forked flame, that, for a moment, wreathed around the stem of the tree, as it whined, in one of its evolutions, under the influence of the air. The effect was instantaneous, The flames danced along the parched trunk of the pine like lightning quivering on a chain, and immediately a column of living fire was raging on the terrace. It soon spread from tree to tree, and the scene was evidently drawing to a close. The log on which Mohegan was seated lighted at its further end, and the Indian appeared to be surrounded by fire. Still he was unmoved. As his body was unprotected, his sufferings must have been great; but his fortitude was superior to all. His voice could yet be heard even in the midst of these horrors. Elizabeth turned her head from the sight, and faced the valley Furious eddies of wind were created by the heat, and, just at the moment, the canopy of fiery smoke that overhung the valley was cleared away, leaving a distinct view of the peaceful village beneath them. “My father!——my father!” shrieked Elizabeth “Oh! this—surely might have been spared me—but I submit.”
The distance was not so great but the figure of Judge Temple could be seen, standing in his own grounds, and apparently contemplating, in perfect unconsciousness of the danger of his child, the mountain in flames. This sight was still more painful than the approaching danger; and Elizabeth again faced the hill.
“My intemperate warmth has done this!” cried Edwards, in the accents of despair. “If I had possessed but a moiety of your heavenly resignation, Miss Temple, all might yet have been well.”