He fancied that under stress of emotion and physical weakness his eyes were deceiving him; but the line of golden fire grew brighter and more definite.

It was broken but unwavering, and black shadows began to take form as part of this phenomenon.

Then he remembered the giant peak of Fernando Noronha, that mis-shapen mass which thrusts its amazing beacon a thousand feet into the air.

The rising moon was gilding El Pico long ere its rays would illumine the lower land--that was all--yet he hailed the sight as a token of deliverance.

It was not by idle chance that that which he had taken for a cloud should be transmuted into a torch; there sprang into his heated brain a new trust.