no ill having followed that, she dismissed her fears, and ere long
sank to rest.

When the village clock pealed forth the hour of midnight, the dark
figure she had observed, stood on the terrace below. The hall door swung
noiselessly on its hinges, and Hannah Doliver stepped forth. "Here are
the matches and kindling-wood," said she in a whisper, approaching the
dusky form, and holding a small basket forward.

"Are they all asleep?" asked a hushed voice.

"Yes," answered she.

"See that you give the alarm in season," returned the muffled figure, as
he took the basket from the woman's hand, and passed softly down the
steps of the piazza.

Silently the destroying fires were lighted. But the midnight incendiary
would have proceeded less deliberately with his work of destruction, had
he marked the tall, lank figure in a long, dark overcoat, and
slouching-brimmed hat, which slowly dogged closely his every footstep.
Suddenly a bright flash leaped up from the fragments the wicked man
sought to enkindle, and revealed his garb and features. A mingled
expression of hatred and revenge glared from the sunken eyes of his
follower, who stood in the shadow of a linden near by, as the pale,
handsome features and light, curling locks of the incendiary met his
gaze.

"Villain!" exclaimed he, springing forward, as the man turned with a
hurried step from his work of destruction; "would you burn innocent
people in their beds?"

With one fell blow the man dashed the lank form to the earth, and fled
down the avenue of cedars, which led to the river, never heeding the
startled looks of a thin woman, and tall, graceful youth, against whose
sides he brushed in his guilty flight.

"Who could that flying figure have been?" asked the lad of the woman,
when the man had rushed past.

"I don't know, indeed, Willie," answered she, "unless it was your
friend, the hermit, gone wild. You say he has been more gloomy than
usual for several days."

"O, no!" returned the youth; "it was not the hermit. I distinguished
this man's features very plainly as he passed, and it was no one I ever
saw before. He had no covering on his head, and his hair was light and
curly. His face seemed glowing with rage and anger."

"It must have been some lunatic escaped from the asylum," said the
woman.

"Well, I think you are right, mother," answered the boy. "I hope he has
not harmed the poor hermit, whom I left sitting on a stone among the
cedars, near Major H