"Well, she's a dear, anyhow; I think Mrs. Peyton might have let her stay all night. It's horribly poky, with Uncle John and the boys and everybody away. Why, Margaret, there isn't a single man about the place, is there? Bannan drove them over, and then he was going to the cattle-show, and so was Michael. Suppose there should be robbers, or anything!"
"Suppose there should!" said Peggy, coolly. "If Frances and I and the dogs could not arrange matters with a robber, it would be a pity. Margaret—what is this queer light? Has everything turned red, all of a sudden?"
"A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE ROOM."
"The moon rises late to-night," said Margaret."I have no idea what time it is now. It seems an hour since Grace went."
"The moon isn't red, anyhow!" said Peggy. "I believe—"
As she spoke, she rose and went to the window. "Girls!" she cried. "There is a fire somewhere near. Come and look!"
Margaret and Jean pressed hastily forward to the window. It was a strange scene on which they looked. All of a sudden, the world seemed turned to red and black. A crimson light suffused the sky; against it the trees stood black as ebony. Even as they looked, a crest of flame sprang up above the tree-tops, wavered, and broke into a shower of sparks; at the same instant their nostrils were filled with the acrid, pungent smell of wood smoke.
"Oh, what is it? Where can it be?" cried Margaret.
"Maybe it's only a bonfire!" said Jean.