After a short interval another, exactly similar, appeared in the same place, and in a similar manner went out again; and then, when an equal interval had elapsed, a third.
All three resembled flashes produced by powder ignited in a loose heap.
The moment the third response had been given to his signal, the Coromantee stepped up to his reflector and blew out the light.
“Dar’s no use fo’ you any mo’,” said he, apostrophising the lamp; “dar am some danger keepin’ you dar. B’side, it am a gettin’ cold up hya. A want my ole cloak.”
So saying, he took down the reflector, and after it the kaross; and, separating the latter from the piece of stick, he once more suspended the garment around his shoulders. This done, he moved forward to the front of the platform; and dropping his legs over, sat down upon the edge of the rock.
Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Nine.
The Cry of the Solitaire.
From the spot where he had seated himself, the mansion of Mount Welcome was in view—that is, it would have been, had it been daytime, or even a moonlight night. As it was, however, darkness veiled the whole valley under its opaque shadows; and the situation of the house could only have been guessed at, had it not been for the light streaming through the jalousied windows. These revealed its position to the eyes of the Coromantee.