It is exciting work to race with a cloud. Vapors are unreliable things at best, and are prone to roll up the sky with fateful swiftness. As Hubert and Theodora came under the first of the trees, the cloud came above them, and the moon vanished. Theodora was as plucky as a girl could be; but there was something rather fearful to her in this dark and lonely road, where she and Hubert were the only moving objects, but where unknown beings might lurk in every shadow, ready to spring out and drag her down to the earth. The formless fear lent an unsteadiness to her progress, and she began to wobble. "How dark it is!" she said, in an odd, constrained little voice. "It must be very late, Hu. Can you see your watch?" "It's not light enough." "Haven't you a match?" "No." "I know we sha'n't get home at nine." "We have till half past, you know. Keep up your pluck, Ted. We're all right. Let's ride a little faster." Half-way down the next hill, there came a clatter and a bump, followed by a little moan from Theodora. Hubert sprang to the ground and ran to her side. "I slipped in the sand and had a fall, a bad one. I've done something to my ankle." "Is it sprained?" "I'm afraid so." Leaning heavily on his arm, she scrambled to her feet. "What is it, Ted? Shall we go back?" She shut her teeth for a moment. "No; what's the use?" "Sha'n't I go for somebody?" "Where's the nearest house?" "Two miles back." She gave a little sigh of pain. Then she said steadily,-- "Take the wheels, Hu, and let me walk a little. It's better to go on, and perhaps I can ride, if I get quieted down a little. I'm sorry to be a baby," she added piteously; "but it does hurt so." "Baby! You!" Hubert longed to pick his sister up in his arms and carry her to a shelter; but it was impossible. Worst of all, he dared not openly pity her. He knew that she was using all her self-control to keep from crying with the pain, and that a single sympathetic word would break down her courage. "Good for you, Ted! I knew you had the sand in you," was all he ventured to say, as she limped slowly along at his side. "I had too much sand under me," she answered, with a giggle which threatened to become hysterical. The next mile was apparently endless, and Theodora, as she looked this way and that with stealthy, fearful glances, felt that the terrors of the darkness almost swallowed up the pain in her ankle. Underneath the rest, moreover, was the anxiety in regard to the delay. She knew the strictness of her father's discipline well enough to fear his displeasure and alarm, when nine o'clock passed and half-past nine, and still they did not appear.