when
the mistiness passed off, she pointed with her hand and told him to
look there.

He looked, and as on the former occasion, all distant things were
clearly visible, for although that mist and blackness given off by
the hill had wrapped them round so that they seemed to be standing
in the midst of a black cloud, yet away on the plain beneath the sun
was shining brightly, and all that was there could be seen by him.
Where he had once seen a herd of wild cattle he now saw mounted men,
to the number of about a dozen, slowly riding towards the hill, and
though they were miles away he could see them very distinctly. They
were dark, black-bearded men, strangely dressed, some with
fawn-coloured cloaks with broad stripes, others in a scarlet uniform,
and they wore cone-shaped scarlet caps. Some carried lances, others
carbines; and they all wore swords--he could see the steel scabbards
shining in the sun. As he watched them they drew rein and some of
them got off their horses, and they stood for some time as if
talking excitedly, pointing towards the hill and using emphatic
gestures.

What were they talking about so excitedly? thought Martin. He wanted
to know, and he would have asked her, but when he looked up at her
she was still gazing fixedly at them with the same pale face and
terrible stern expression, and he could but dimly see her face in
that black cloud which had closed around them. He trembled with fear
and could only murmur, "Mother! mother!" Then her arm was put round
him, and she drew him close against her side, and at that moment--O
how terrible it was!--the black cloud and the whole universe was lit
up with a sudden flash that seemed to blind and scorch him, and the
hill and the world was shaken and seemed to be shattered by an awful
thunder crash. It was more than he could endure: he ceased to feel
or know anything, and was like one dead, and when he came to himself
and opened his eyes he was lying in her lap with her face smiling
very tenderly, bending over him.

"O, poor little Martin," she said, "what a poor, weak little boy you
are to lose your senses at the lightning and thunder! I was angry
when I saw them coming to the hill, for they are wicked, cruel men,
stained with blood, and I made the storm to drive them away. They
are gone, and the storm is over now, and it is late--come, let us go
to our cave;" and she took him up and carried him in her arms.

CHAPTER XVI

THE PEOPLE OF THE MIST