What puzzles me is, he's so quiet.

You mark my words "-- Sir Harry rose, buttoned his coat and shook his riding-crop prophetically--"he's brewing up for something.

There'll be the devil of a flare-up before he has done." It came with the Midsummer bonfires.

At nine o'clock on St.John's Eve, Mr.Raymond read prayers in the church.

It was his rule to celebrate thus the vigils of all saints in the English calendar and some few Cornish saints besides; and he regularly announced these services on the preceding Sundays: but no parishioner dreamed of attending them.
To-night, as usual, he and Taffy had prayed alone: and the lad was standing after service at the church door, with his surplice on his arm (for he always wore a surplice and read the lessons on these vigils), when the flame of the first bonfire shot up from the headland over Innis village.
Almost on the moment, a flame answered it from the point where the lighthouse stood; and, within ten minutes, the horizon of the towans was cressetted with these beacon-fires: surely (thought Taffy) with many more than usual.