had done, was lost to sight.

Ere long, it became quite dark, and as Ashbead did not reappear, the
abbot gave vent to his impatience and uneasiness, and was proposing to
send one of the herdsmen in search of him, when his attention was
suddenly diverted by a loud shout from one of the sentinels, and a fire
was seen on a distant hill on the right.

"The signal! the signal!" cried Paslew, joyfully. "Kindle a
torch!--quick, quick!"

And as he spoke, he seized a brand and plunged it into the peat fire,
while his example was followed by the two monks.

"It is the beacon on Blackstone Edge," cried the abbot; "and look! a
second blazes over the Grange of Cliviger--another on Ightenhill--
another on Boulsworth Hill--and the last on the neighbouring
heights of Padiham. Our own comes next. May it light the enemies of our
holy Church to perdition!"

With this, he applied the burning brand to the combustible matter of the
beacon. The monks did the same; and in an instant a tall, pointed flame,
rose up from a thick cloud of smoke. Ere another minute had elapsed,
similar fires shot up to the right and the left, on the high lands of
Trawden Forest, on the jagged points of Foulridge, on the summit of
Cowling Hill, and so on to Skipton. Other fires again blazed on the
towers of Clithero, on Longridge and Ribchester, on the woody eminences
of Bowland, on Wolf Crag, and on fell and scar all the way to Lancaster.
It seemed the work of enchantment, so suddenly and so strangely did the
fires shoot forth. As the beacon flame increased, it lighted up the