Mercy did not wait his coming, but took the children, each by a hand, and went a little way up the hill that immediately bordered the stream. "Farther! farther!" cried Ian as he ran. "Where is Christina?" "At the ruin," she answered. "Good heavens!" exclaimed Ian, and darted off, crying, "Up the hill with you! up the hill!" Christina was standing by the birch-tree in the ruin, looking down the burn. She had heard Ian calling, and saw him running, but suspected no danger. "Come; come directly; for God's sake, come!" he cried. "Look up the burn!" he added, seeing her hesitate bewildered. She turned, looked, and came running to him, down the channel, white with terror. It was too late. The charging water, whose front rank was turf, and hushes, and stones, was almost upon her. The solid matter had retarded its rush, but it was now on the point of dividing against the rocky mound, to sweep along both sides, and turn it into an island. Ian bounded to her in the middle of the channel, caught her by the arm, and hurried her back to the mound as fast as they could run: it was the highest ground immediately accessible. As they reached it, the water broke with a roar against its rocky base, rose, swelled--and in a moment the island was covered with a brown, seething, swirling flood. "Where's Mercy and the children?" gasped Christina, as the water rose upon her. "Safe, safe!" answered Ian. "We must get to the ruin!" The water was halfway up his leg, and rising fast. Their danger was but beginning. Would the old walls, in greater part built without mortar, stand the rush? If a tree should strike them, they hardly would! If the flood came from a waterspout, it would soon be over--only how high it might first rise, who could tell! Such were his thoughts as they struggled to the ruin, and stood up at the end of a wall parallel with the current. The water was up to Christina's waist, and very cold. Here out of the rush, however, she recovered her breath in a measure, and showed not a little courage. Ian stood between her and the wall, and held her fast. The torrent came round the end of the wall from both sides, but the encounter and eddy of the two currents rather pushed them up against it. Without it they could not have stood. The chief danger to Christina, however, was from the cold. With the water so high on her body, and flowing so fast, she could not long resist it! Ian, therefore, took her round the knees, and lifted her almost out of the water. "Put your arms up," he said, "and lay hold of the wall. Don't mind blinding me; my eyes are of little use at present. There--put your feet in my hands. Don't be frightened; I can hold you." "I can't help being frightened!" she panted. "We are in God's arms," returned Ian. "He is holding us." "Are you sure we shall not be drowned?" she asked. "No; but I am sure the water cannot take us out of God's arms."