There was no mark or blemish upon or about
the eye; it was as clear and penetrating as its fellow, darkly gleaming
in the red glow from below. Moreover, Beverly saw that he was strikingly
handsome--a strong, manly face. The highly imaginative southern girl's
mind reverted to the first portraits of Napoleon she had seen.
Suddenly he started, threw up his head and looking up to the sky uttered
some strange words. Then he strode abruptly toward her doorway. She fell
back breathless. He stopped just outside, and she knew that he was
listening for sounds from within. After many minutes she stealthily
looked forth again. He was standing near the fire, his back toward her,
looking off into the night.
The wind was growing stronger; the breezes fanned the night into a rush
of shivery coolness. Constant flickerings of lightning illuminated the
forest, transforming the tree-tops into great black waves. Tall reeds
along the river bank began to bend their tops, to swing themselves
gently to and from the wind. In the lowlands down from the cave "will o'
the wisps" played tag with "Jack o' the lanterns," merrily scampering
about in the blackness, reminding her of the revellers in a famous
Brocken scene. Low moans grew out of the havoc, and voices seemed to
speak in unintelligible whispers to the agitated twigs and leaves. The
secrets of the wind were being spread upon the records of the night;
tales of many climes passed through the ears of Nature.
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