"Where's the parson?" exclaimed the one who first made the discovery; when, upon comparing notes, it was found that he had not been noticed by any one for some hours. "Poor old fellow, he could not keep up," said Lawler. "We shall find him under a tree, resting, when we go back. He was not without food, fortunately, for I saw that he had it, or he would have gone without." "I hope no mischief will befall him," said another; and then they fell to consulting, in cautious tones, as to the next best proceeding; whether to press on farther, or to retrace their steps, and examine some of the ravines, so as to join the strength they hoped by that time to meet approaching from the lower part of the Gap, while, at the same time, they would pick up Mr Meadows. "I should be for going on," said Lawler, "only that I think the last plan is the better; for I can't help thinking they have never come up here. Let's go back: we're losing time." Following out his suggestion, the men rose, and began, with the same precautions, to retrace their steps, by this time spreading out in a more extended line; while, about the same time, a party of a dozen friends commenced the ascent of the Gap, following the plainly-marked track left by the first detachment. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ STORY THREE, CHAPTER NINETEEN. MR MEADOWS'S WEAKNESS. Mr Meadows struggled on, hour after hour, with his companions, only enabled to keep up with them by their exceedingly slow progress; for, from time to time, he would sit for a few minutes while they passed on for some little distance, and then, following the track, he would overtake them at their slow, watchful pace. He pressed on; sometimes tottering, sometimes resting so long that he had to strive hard to reach the last man. The heat seemed to overcome him; and at last, seating himself by the bright stream, upon whose banks he was, he let five, ten, twenty minutes, an hour slip away, heedless of all save the exhaustion that had enervated him. Gradually a delicious sleep stole upon him, and then for a while all was blank. But at length the weary man awoke, and started in pursuit of his companions, reproaching himself for his cruelty in sleeping at an hour like this; though, at the time, his forward progress was but a weary totter from tree to tree, against whose trunks he was often glad to lean his hands. "It is of no use," he groaned. "I'm worn out; and until Nature has done her part of restoration, I am helpless as a child." He sat down, and rested again, and then rose; for the distant report of a gun fell upon his ear; repeated, too, once or twice; and turning from his companions' track, he faced towards that side of the Gap from amidst whose craggy fastnesses the sound seemed to proceed.