scious of
this din, from being accustomed always to hear more or less of it, the
boy amused himself with chasing the fireflies, whose light began to
glance around as darkness descended. His sister was poring over her
work, which she was just finishing, when a gleam of greenish light made
both look up. It came from a large meteor which sailed past towards the
mountains, whither were tending also the huge masses of cloud which
gather about the high peaks previous to the season of rain and
hurricanes. There was nothing surprising in this meteor, for the sky
was full of them in August nights; but it was very beautiful. The globe
of green light floated on till it burst above the mountains,
illuminating the lower clouds, and revealing along the slopes of the
uplands the coffee-groves, waving and bowing their heads in the
wandering winds of that high region. Genifrede shivered at the sight,
and her brother threw himself upon her lap. Before he had asked half
his questions about the lights of the sky, the short twilight was gone,
and the evening star cast a faint shadow from the tufted posts of the
piazza upon the white wall of the cottage. In a low tone, full of awe,
Genifrede told the boy such stories as she had heard from her father of
the mysteries of the heavens. He felt that she trembled as she told of
the northern lights, which had been actually seen by some travelled
persons now in Cap Francais. It took some time and argument to give him
an idea of cold countries; but his uncle Paul, the fisherman, had seen
hail on the coast, only thirty miles from hence; and this was a great
step in the evidence. Denis listened with all due belief to his
sister's description of those pale lights shooting up over the sky, till
he cried out vehemently, "There they are! look!"

Genifrede screamed, and covered her face with her hands; while the boy
shouted to his father, and ran to call his mother to see the lights.

What they saw, however, was little like the pale, cold rays of the
aurora borealis. It was a fiery red, which, shining to some height in
the air, was covered in by a canopy of smoke.

"Look up, Genifrede," said her father, laying his hand upon her head.
"It is a fire--a cane-field on fire."

"And houses, too--the sugar-house, no doubt," said Margot, who had come
out to look. "It burns too red to be canes only. Can it be at
Latour's? That would keep Jean from coming.--It was the best supper I
ever got ready fo