Things were in this state when, one calm and cloudless night, when the moon shone with her brightest effulgence, quenching the stars in their radiance, and bringing out into clear and softened perspective the scenery below. Within the peaceful village of our story reigned the most profound repose. Its inhabitants, unconscious of impending danger, had long since offered up the nightly incense of their pious hearts, and resigned themselves to sleep--sleep in the old, deep, undisturbed and dreamless; in the young, light, peaceful and visionary--in all, the unfeverish, refreshing rest which was the natural reward of their simple habits, and the rectitude of their lives. The silence was suddenly broken by sounds that curdled the blood of those who heard them, and made them spring to their feet as if a lightning flash had stricken them. Before any one could find words, the appalling war-cry of the savages burst from every quarter, startling the very air through which it passed, and falling like a blight upon the spirit. The devoted villagers beheld throughout the settlement lines of streaming torches moved by dusky forms. These torch-lights carried high above their heads showed not only the grim faces of those who bore them, but also those of others who were partly concealed by the foliage of the forest in which they stood. With that forethought and cunning so remarkable in their race, they had conveyed firebrands and straw to the doors of each dwelling in the early part of the evening. The yell already noticed was the signal for firing their previous preparations, and, ere many moments had elapsed, a number of the cottages were in flames. Glancing instinctively toward their pastor’s home, the terrified settlers found that it shared in the general fate. To hold a short conclave, and then dispatch a few of the more fearless and active of their number to the assistance of its helpless inmates was the work of a moment. Hurrying along the little path, the heroic men reached the spot as the high and agonizing scream of a woman arose far above the discordant yell even of the savages. It came from Grace Bartlett. Scarcely conscious of what she did, the unhappy girl, leaving her chamber, gained the top of the stair-case, and loudly as she could, called upon the name of her parents. Her piteous accents were responded to only by a shout from the crowd. Bounding footsteps mingled with shouts reached her, approaching momently nearer, and ascending the stair-case. With all the instinct of self-preservation, the affrighted Grace rushed back again into her own apartment. There, sinking on her knees, she reposed her forehead against the side of the windowsill, and nearly suffocated with smoke, and in a state of indescribable agony, awaited the consummation of her fate.