CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH.
Red glared the beacon on Pownell On Skiddaw there were three; The bugle horn on moor and fell Was heard continually.
James Hogg.
The watch who kept his watch on the hill, and looked towards Birnam, probably conceived himself dreaming when he first beheld the fated grove put itself into motion for its march to Dunsinane.

Even so old Caxon, as perched in his hut, he qualified his thoughts upon the approaching marriage of his daughter, and the dignity of being father-in-law to Lieutenant Taffril, with an occasional peep towards the signal-post with which his own corresponded, was not a little surprised by observing a light in that direction.

He rubbed his eyes, looked again, adjusting his observation by a cross-staff which had been placed so as to bear upon the point.

And behold, the light increased, like a comet to the eye of the astronomer, "with fear of change perplexing nations." "The Lord preserve us!" said Caxon, "what's to be done now?
But there will be wiser heads than mine to look to that, sae I'se e'en fire the beacon." And he lighted the beacon accordingly, which threw up to the sky a long wavering train of light, startling the sea-fowl from their nests, and reflected far beneath by the reddening billows of the sea.

The brother warders of Caxon being equally diligent, caught, and repeated his signal.