The bonfires had never ceased to rise and expand.

For a long distance the surface of the lake was lighted up brilliantly.

The crests of the waves near them were tipped with red, as if with blood, and the strong wind moaned like the voice of evil.

Robert felt a chill in his blood.

He knew that the fate of his comrades and himself hung on a hair.
Nearer came the canoes, and, in the glare of the fires, they saw the occupants distinctly.