s captured,
and still he slept. The lost young girl wandered within fifty yards of
where he lay steeped in forgetfulness, dreaming, perhaps, of her; and
all the time they were as unconscious of each other's presence as were
Evangeline and her lover when they passed each other at night on the
great river.

Penn was the first to wake; and still his stupid heart whispered to him
no syllable of the strange secret of the beautiful sleeper whom he might
have looked down upon from the edge of the cliff so near.

The grove had been but recently fired, and it would have been easy
enough then for him to rush into the gorge and rescue her. From what
terrors, from what perils would she have been saved! But he wasted the
precious moments in staring amazement; then, thinking of his own safety,
he commenced running _away_ from her,--his escape lighted by the same
fatal flames that were enclosing her within the gorge.

She never knew whether, on awaking, she cried for help or remained dumb;
nor did it matter much then: he was already too far off to hear.

The glow on the clouds lighted all the broad mountain side. Under the
ruddy canopy he ran,--now through dimly illumined woods, and now over
bare rocks faintly flushed by the glare of the sky.

As he drew near the cave, he saw, on a rock high above him, a wild human
figure making fantastic gestures, and prostrating itself towards the
burning forests. He ran up to it, and, all out of breath, stood on the
ledge.

"Cudjo! Cudjo! what are you doing here?"

The negro made no reply, but, folding his arms above his head, spread
them forth towards the fire, bowing himself again and again, until his
forehead touched the stone.

Penn shuddered with awe. For the first time in his life he found himself
in the presence of an idolater. Cudjo belonged to a tribe of African
fire-worshippers, from whom he had been stolen in his youth; and,
although the sentiment of the old barbarous religion had smouldered for
years forgotten in his breast, this night it had burst forth again,
kindled by the terrible splendors of the burning mountain.

Penn waited for him to rise, then grasped his arm. The negro, startled
into a consciousness of his presence, stared at him wildly.

"That is not God, Cudjo!"

"No, no, not your God, massa! My God!" and the African smote his breast.
"Me mos' forgit him; now me 'members! Him comin' fur burn up de white
folks, and set de brack man free!"

Penn stood silent, t