“Grandfather’s cabin is not far off, if you and the other gentleman will come with me.”
“With great pleasure—and ten thousand thanks, my dear little girl. Be so good as to lead the way.”
The flock of sheep had gone on before. The girl put her pony in motion, and the gentlemen followed—Mr. Fairfax addressing all his conversation to his little companion; and Captain Clifton riding on in silence and abstraction.
The sky was darkening very fast, and great single drops of rain occasionally falling. They quickened their pace, and after riding briskly several hundred yards, came to the head of a glen, deep down in which was seen a small, lone cabin. At this instant the sheet lightning glared from horizon to horizon, followed by a report as of exploded and falling rocks, and then the rain came down in a deluge. The darkness was so dense now as to hide their way. The girl jumped from her pony, and giving him a little slap that sent him travelling down the path, went up to the head of Clifton’s horse and said, shyly—
“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?”