Dangerous as it was to hurry over the wet and slippery shale, and down the steep sides of the rugged hill, Kennedy half drew, half-carried her along with swift steps towards the place from which the dim light still seemed to allure them by its wavering and uncertain flicker.
Chapter Seventeen.
A Night of Terror.
“For the strength of the hills we bless Thee,
Our God, our Father’s God;
Thou hast made our spirits mighty,
By the touch of the mountain sod!”
Hemans.
“Here you all are, then,” said the cheerful voice of Mr Kennedy, as Julian, Eva, and Cyril, followed by the guide, entered the little Mürrem Inn.
“Here are three of us,” answered Julian; “haven’t Edward and Violet arrived? Not having seen them for the last half-hour, I fancied they must have got before us by some short cut.”
“No, they’ve not come yet. Fortunately for you, Eva, Aunt Dudley is very tired and has gone to bed,” he said laughing, “otherwise you would have got a scolding for not taking better care of Violet.”
“Oh, then, they must be close behind somewhere for certain,” said Julian; “they could not have missed the path—it lay straight before us the whole way.”