"I wish I never had to deal with worse characters than you," said Michael Craig, for this was his name. "Go into the cottage as you pass. Good-bye." Again the children scrambled through the little hole in the fence, and ran to the place they had left the perambulator; but to their dismay, it was gone. CHAPTER X. THE LITTLE RED HOUSE. The scene around had changed during the half-hour. Angry looking clouds were coming up on all sides, and heavy drops of rain were falling. "What _shall_ we do?" cried Ben. "Your coach has been stolen, Kit. What will they say at home? Oh dear--dear! Some tramps have got it. We must follow on, and perhaps we'll overtake it." "I don't like the lightning, Ben," cried Kit. "And this rain will soak you through; keep close up to the hedge a few minutes, while I wrap you in the shawl. It's a good thing I took that with us." He wrapped Kit up as warmly as possible, and made her sit down behind him while he kept the rain off her as best he could. Tears of vexation rolled down his cheeks as he thought, "things seem to be all going wrong," and he absently put his hands in his pockets. Doing so, he laid hold of the two little texts Miss Randolphe had given him--"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever" (Heb. xiii. 8). Her words occurred to his mind--Yesterday means long ago when He died on the cross for us and put away our sin; To-day means now while He helps us along the narrow path; and Forever, when we will be with Him safe in heaven. "All right," thought Ben, "if Jesus keeps the same, He won't forget _us_, but He'll help us safe through all this trouble we've got into. There's another flash, Kit! We mustn't stay here, it is not safe; I heard father say, people are struck dead under trees and such like when the lightning flashes. What was that! It sounded like some one crying out? Listen." But a peal of thunder drowned every other sound. "I suppose it was only my fancy. Now Kit, stand on that old tree--that's it, and put your arms round my neck, and I'll sling the shawl right over your head and bind you on my back, and run away home as fast as I can, then I'll come back and look after the 'coach.'" Kit did as she was bid, and with his precious burden on his back, Ben ran as fast as he could down the hill. The rain pelted upon them, and the little boy panted for breath, but he struggled on till the little red cottage came in sight. "We must try and get in here," he gasped, and upon reaching the door, he rapped. A woman past middle age opened the door, and looked greatly surprised at seeing Ben with the little girl's head peeping out above his shoulders. "Please let us in; the gentleman who walks in the woods to keep the public off, told us to come here till the thunder was over," cried Ben. The woman drew the children inside the door, and asked them to walk in and dry themselves at the kitchen fire, while they told her all that had happened.