At length, coming to a cross road, Nellie paused.
"Look, father," and she pointed to a large tree near by. "What a cool, shady spot! Suppose we rest there for a while, and I will read some from the little book I have brought with me."
Willingly Mr. Westmore conceded to her wish, and soon they were snugly seated on the grassy sward. With his back against the tree, Parson John breathed a sigh of relief as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead with a large, white handkerchief.
So absorbed did they both become in the book that neither noticed the black clouds which had been gathering away to the south, and were now rolling up fearful and threatening beneath the sun. A distant peal of thunder, followed by a bright flash of lightning, startled them.
"A storm is coming!" exclaimed Nellie, springing to her feet. "We must hurry home at once! The road to the right is shorter. I know it quite well; we had better take that."
They had not proceeded far, however, before the peals of thunder became more intense, and soon large drops of rain came spattering down.
"We're in for a heavy storm," panted Mr. Westmore. "It's about to burst upon us. We must seek shelter!"
"There's a house right ahead," Nellie replied. "Perhaps we can get in there."
They plodded on in silence now, and turned in at a little gate none too soon. Scarcely had they entered the small porch in front of the house ere the storm broke. Hail, mingled with rain, came thundering down upon the roof, and, dashing against the glass, threatened to smash in every pane. The thunder crashed and shook the house, while the lightning streaked the air with blinding flashes.
"This is terrible!" exclaimed Nellie, clinging to her father's arm, her face very white. "We must get into the house!"