"Listen," said Peter, blowing out his light. "Thar ye air now. Don't say a word nur make any noise. Let 'em go on by, a-thinkin' we air asleep, an' ye'll see a putty sight soon. The fiends! the fiends! They're bent on a-killin' of ye right now, Wade, an' gloatin' in their hearts cause ye air mout nigh dead, so they think." The well-known clatter of the horses feet came nearer and nearer. Old Peter stepped up close to Wade and laid his hand on his shoulder reassuringly. On the other side of him Wade felt the warm breath of old Peter's daughter, as she hovered close to him. She was consoling him in her kind, simple way, and he thanked God in his heart that it was so. Thus they stood, waiting, while the lightning flashed fiercer and the thunder peals grew louder. Slowly the rain began to descend. Then suddenly, in that terrible moment of anxious quietude, there burst forth through the midnight darkness a faint ray of light which soon appeared a flame of fire, leaping and dancing exultantly. "Thar ye air," exclaimed Judson. "Yer cabin'll be in ashes afore mornin', jest as I told ye awhile ago." Silently the watchers watched, knowing full well what was in the heart of Jack Wade. It was useless to try to hold conversation during that awful period of suspense. Jack watched his little cabin burn, while the flames, cracking and roaring, seemed to touch his own heart and set it aflame also. The growing vengeance softened his feelings. "Let her burn," he said, "but one soul shall burn in hell for this night's work." "Mor'n one," whispered Tom Judson. The significance of his remarks, however, was lost to Jack Wade, who thought only of avenging himself now. No thought for anyone entered his heart. For some time not a word was spoken, only watching; silently watching. The flames reached high into the air, lighting up the landscape back toward the mountain and over in the valley, although the cabin was a small one. The yells of those revengeful men rent the midnight air while all that was dear to Jack Wade was fast going down to ashes and utter ruin. The horses' feet beat a heavy clattering retreat back up the road. When they passed Peter Judson's cabin Wade slipped noiselessly out into the darkness, struck the road and started, on foot, rapidly after the fast retreating horsemen. He knew it would have been folly under ordinary circumstances to have tried to catch up with them, but he figured they would soon strike the roughest part of the hill where horses could not travel fast, and he might by traveling rapidly catch up with them before they left the mountain road. Old Peter Judson did not realize what the young man contemplated until he was too far gone. When he came to a realization of the truth he swore a blue streak and started out in search of "ther durn fool," who, for some unknown reason, he had come to like.