“You can’t see the way, sir, and you don’t know the road—let me lead your horse.” “By no means, my good girl,” replied Clifton, speaking in a tone of haughty astonishment. Without reply the child turned from him and went towards Fairfax. And at the same instant a thunderbolt was hurled from Heaven with a terrific crash, riving the ground on which she had just stood. When the panic was over, the first thought of Captain Clifton was for the safety of that presumptuous child. A glare of lightning revealed her lying on the rock. He hastened to her side. “My dear child, are you hurt,” he asked, dismounting and stooping to lift her. “Oh! sir, I am so glad to hear you speak! I thought you were struck.” “Are you hurt?” “Oh no, sir, I was only thrown down,” replied the child, lightly springing to her feet. “Oh, yes! Exchange your mutual condolences and congratulations. But who the mischief cares whether I am hurt or not?” exclaimed Fairfax, stumbling along towards them—for he also had dismounted. “You were entirely out of danger,” replied Clifton. “Out of danger! Who the deuce is out of danger within a hundred miles of these infernal mountains?” The rain was still pouring down in floods, and in the interval of the thunder, the roar of the swollen torrents was deafening. The question now was, whether to remain standing there exposed to all the fury of the storm, or to attempt the now dangerous descent into the glen. “I could lead your horses down in safety, if you would let me, for I know every inch of the road so well,” said the girl. Another blinding glare of lightning, another terrific peal of thunder, and another deluge of rain, put a stop to all reply. At last the child repeated her offer, saying that she could lead the horses down very well, “one at a time.” But, of course, that was not for a moment to be thought of by the young men. And her plan was rejected at once. “Well, then, the only way will be to go down on foot, and leave your horses here to follow. For you will need your hands as well as your feet in groping down the slippery rock through the darkness,” said the girl. After a little more consultation, her last proposition was adopted, and they began the descent on foot. After some twenty minutes’ toil and struggle through darkness and deluge, thunder and lightning, they reached the lowly door of the cabin, pushed it hastily open, and hurried in. It was very dark, and nothing was to be seen but the red glow of a few smouldering embers on the hearth. Towards these the girl went. “And what do you think has become of your flock of sheep, my good girl?” inquired Frank, kindly, remembering her interests while he stood there wringing the water out of his coat skirts. “Oh, the bell-wether has led them all into the pen long ago, sir. They are always safe when they are once in the glen,” replied the child, as she lighted a candle.