The want of an umbrella was to Emmie by no means the worst part of her troubles; she was afraid that her brother had indeed been misdirected, and that they might be lost and benighted in a part of the country where they as yet were strangers, exposed to the perils of a thunderstorm, from which the nervous girl shrank with instinctive terror. Emmie had never hitherto even attempted to overcome her fear; and though her uncle's words now recurred to her mind, the idea of encountering a thunderstorm after nightfall, without even a roof to protect her, put to flight any good resolutions that those words might have roused in her mind. "There was a flash!" exclaimed Emmie, starting and putting her hands before her eyes. She pressed closer to her brother as if for protection. "We shall have more soon; the storm comes nearer," was the little comforting reply of Vibert. As he ended the sentence, the thunder-clap followed the flash. The pony pricked up his ears, and quickened his pace. "I am glad that we are out of this miserable mouse-hole at last," cried Vibert, pulling the left rein sharply as the light vehicle emerged from the narrow, miry lane into the broad and comparatively smooth highway. At this moment the darkening landscape was suddenly lighted up by a flash intensely bright, followed almost immediately by a peal over the travellers' heads. The terrified Emmie shrieked, and, losing all presence of mind, caught hold of her brother's arm. The sharp turning out of the lane, the pony's start at the flash, and the sudden grasp on the driver's arm, acting together, had the effect which might have been expected. Down went pony and chaise, down went driver and lady, precipitated into the ditch which bordered the high-road. CHAPTER IX. NEW ACQUAINTANCE. Vibert shouting for help, Emmie shrieking, the pony kicking and struggling in vain attempts to scramble out of the ditch, rain rattling, thunder rolling, all made a confused medley of sounds, while the deepening darkness was ever and anon lit up by lightning-flashes. "Oh, Vibert! dear Vibert! are you hurt?" cried the terrified Emmie, with whom personal fear did not counterbalance anxiety for her young brother's safety. "I'm not hurt; I lighted on a bramble-bush; I've got off with a few scratches," answered Vibert, who had regained the road. "But where on earth are you, Emmie? Can't you manage to get up?" "No," gasped Emmie; "the chaise keeps me down. Oh, there is the lightning again!" and she shrieked. "Never mind the lightning," cried Vibert impatiently. "How am I to get the pony on his legs? he's kicking like mad; and, oh! do stop screaming, Emmie, you're enough to drive any one wild. It was your pull and your shrieking that did all the mischief."