te, if it were only with a tallow dip, on the
penalty of having his windows broken by the mob of loyal, but
stay-at-home patriots. At the same time, all the boys of Eden Valley had
full permission to carry off old barrels and other combustibles from the
houses of the zealous, or even to commandeer them without permission
from the barns and fences of suspected "black-nebs" to raise nearer
heaven the flare of our victorious bonfires.

With all the ingredients laid ready to my hand, it was exceedingly
simple for me to put together such a brazier as could be seen over half
the county. Not the least useful of my improvements was the lengthening
of the chain, so that the whole fire-basket could be hoisted to the top
of the tripod, and so stand clear of the battlements of the tower,
showing over the tree-tops to the very cliffs of Killantringan, and
doubtless far out to sea.

Last of all, before descending, I covered everything over with a thick
mat of tarred cloth, which would keep the fuel dry as tinder even in
case of rain, or the dense dews that pearled down out of the clear
heavens on these short nights of a northern June.

It is a strange thing, watching together, and in the case of young
people it is apt to make curious things hop up in the heart all
unexpectedly. It was so, at least, with myself. As to Miss Irma I cannot
say, and, of course, Agnes Anne does not count, for she sat back in the
shelter of a great cupboard, well out of range of "King George," and
went on with her knitting till she fell asleep.

However, Miss Irma and I sat together in the jutting window, where, as
the night darkened and the curtains of the clouds drew down to meet the
sombre tree-tops, a kind of black despair came over me. Would "King
George" really do any good? Would I prove myself stout and brave when
the moment came? Would the beacon we had prepared really burn, and,
supposing it did, would any one see it, drowned in woods as we were, and
far from all folk, except the peaceable villagers of Eden Valley?

But I had the grace to keep such thoughts to myself, and if they visited
Miss Irma, she did the like. The crying of the owls made the place of a
strange eeriness, especially sometimes when a bat or other night
creature would come and cling a moment under the leaden pent of the
window.

Such things as these, together with the strain of the waiting on the
unknown, drew us insensibly together--I do not mean Agnes Anne--but just
the