“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.