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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"Stories by English Authors: Africa (Selected by Scribners)"

Yet the
influence of the romantic situation and my companion's suppressed
excitement was so great that I could feel the blood coursing through my
veins and count the pulses throbbing at my temples.
"Start!" cried Tom; and we moved off, he to the right, I to the left,
each with our eyes fixed intently on the base of the crag. I had moved
perhaps twenty feet, when in a moment it burst upon me. Through the
growing darkness there shone a small, ruddy, glowing point, the light
from which waned and increased, flickered and oscillated, each change
producing a more weird effect than the last. The old Kaffir superstition
came into my mind, and I felt a cold shudder pass over me. In my
excitement I stepped a pace backward, when instantly the light went out,
leaving utter darkness in its place; but when I advanced again, there
was the ruddy glare glowing from the base of the cliff. "Tom, Tom!" I
cried.
"Ay, ay!" I heard him exclaim, as he hurried over toward me.
"There it is--there, up against the cliff!"
Tom was at my elbow. "I see nothing," said he.
"Why, there, there, man, in front of you!" I stepped to the right as I
spoke, when the light instantly vanished from my eyes.


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