“I think she’s scared, though, this time,” replied his companion with a laugh. Lou stopped short, and the others with her. She had caught a part of the foolish words, and guessed the rest. Turning squarely about, she surveyed the yawning gulf, and the slender road across it, with shining eyes and flushed cheeks. Her breath came quickly. She _was_ afraid, but should the others know it—especially Fred Seacomb, whom she had been taunting with weakness? Without otherwise announcing her intention, she walked deliberately toward the trestle, and stepped upon the narrow line of boards which were placed across the ties for a foot-way. Fred sprang forward and laid his hand on her arm. “Lou! Surely you’ll not attempt——” “Fred Seacomb, I’m going across this bridge. If you don’t wish to go,” she added, in a tone which implied more contempt than she meant,—she was so excited,—“you can sit down here and wait till we come back. Who’s going to follow?” she cried, raising her voice and glancing over her shoulder. She looked very pretty, standing there with a great cluster of asters in her belt, her eyes sparkling, and little wisps of hair blowing about her face. Two or three stout fellows came forward eagerly enough, and one of the girls. Fred had not moved. Lou could feel his fingers tremble on her arm. Now he tried to speak again, but she shook off his hand impatiently, and turned away. “But, Miss Elwin—Lou——” No, she would not listen. Already she was well out upon the trestle, and the wind, drawing down through the ravine, had begun to buffet her slender figure. “Lou—you’ve forgotten—_the train_!” She could not hear now, if she would. The wind caught the words and hurled them away down the valley after the brook. The boards were wet from the recent rains, and to her dismay she began to find it difficult to keep a steady footing. One moment, the wind would howl in her ears, and seize upon her fluttering dress with its powerful grasp until she was obliged to lean against it with her whole force; the next, the gust would die away, withdrawing its support so suddenly that she nearly fell. She could not turn, but she knew that those who had foolishly started after her must be some distance in the rear, for she heard nothing from them. She did not know that they had given up the perilous task and gone back at Fred’s first warning. Once, and only once, she ventured to look down through the trestle work. Far, oh! so far below, she could see the waters of the little stream as it lay among the rocks with no sound, but moving on its white way silently. At the same moment, a blast of wind grasped and shook her so fiercely that she well-nigh lost her balance on the uneven boards. There was no rail or support of any kind on either side or overhead; only space, space, whirling in the wind, and below, the rocks and the white brook.