es! Would
they be in time to save themselves, if a cascade of glowing lava came
rolling down the slope of the mountain across their route?

Nevertheless, some of the chief and shrewder farm owners were not
swept away in this mad flight, which they did their best to restrain.
Venturing within a mile of the mountain, they saw that the glare of
the flames was decreasing. In truth it hardly seemed that the region
was immediately menaced by any further upheaval. No stones were being
hurled into space; no torrent of lava was visible upon the slopes; no
rumblings rose from the ground. There was no further manifestation of
any seismic disturbance capable of overwhelming the land.

At length, the flight of the fugitives ceased at a distance where
they seemed secure from all danger. Then a few ventured back toward
the mountain. Some farms were reoccupied before the break of day.

By morning the crests of the Great Eyrie showed scarcely the least
remnant of its cloud of smoke. The fires were certainly at an end;
and if it were impossible to determine their cause, one might at
least hope that they would not break out again.

It appeared possible that the Great Eyrie had not really been the
theater of volcanic phenomena at all. There was no further evidence
that the neighborhood was at the mercy either of eruptions or of
earthquakes.

Yet once more about five o'clock, from beneath the ridge of the
mountain, where the shadows of night still lingered, a strange noise
swept across the air, a sort of whirring, accompanied by the beating
of mighty wings. And had it been a clear day, perhaps the farmers
would have seen the passage of a mighty bird of prey, some monster of
the skies, which having risen from the Great Eyrie sped away toward
the east.

Chapter 2

I REACH MORGANTON

The twenty-seventh of April, having left Washington the night before,
I arrived at Raleigh, the capital of the State of North Carolina.

Two days before, the head of the federal police had called me to his
room. He was awaiting me with some impatience. "John Strock," said
he, "are you still the man who on so many occasions has proven to me
both his devotion and his ability?"

"Mr. Ward," I answered, with a bow, "I cannot promise success or even
ability, but as to devotion, I assure you, it is yours."

"I do not doubt it," responded the chief. "And I will ask you instead
this more exact question: Are you as fond of riddles as ever? As
eager t