“No, I think not,” said the girl, as she dragged herself free. “Oh!” A smothered cry escaped her lips.
“You are hurt,” said Gardiner, as he raised her in his arms. “You are hurt. Tell me. Let me help you.”
The gale had swept by, and the air was very still and warm.
“No, I am not hurt—much,” she answered. “But we cannot stay here. It will rain soon, and the lightning is—” She closed her eyes. ”Can’t we go somewhere? Can’t we walk home?”
“I am afraid we must try,” said her companion. “Or I might go back to town for another rig?”
“No, we will walk home. We must be more than half way. Let me see—what direction is that?”
“South, I think.”
“No, it must be west. Surely it is west?”
“Let us follow the fence; it must lead somewhere.”
At that moment a tongue of fire came leaping along the upper wire of the fence. Both drew back, as though to dodge the electric current.