A MOUNTAIN STORM.

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which the pallor of dread had not yet extinguished the glow which had been kindled by the mountain windhe printed a lover's kiss; but in maidenly reserve she drew back, and was afraid to have revealed her secret, and once more she said, "Oh, Mr. Kennedy, we shall die if we stay here unsheltered in this storm."

As though to confirm her words, the thunder began to growl, and while the sounds of it were beaten back with long loud hollow buffetings from the rocks on every side, the blue and winged flash of lightning glittered before their eyes, cleaving a rift with dazzling and vivid intensity amid the purple gloom.

"Stay here but one instant, Violet-Miss Home,' he said; "I will climb this rock to see if any light is near, and will be with you again in a moment."

He bounded actively up the rock, reckless of danger, and gazed from the summit into the night. For a second, another flash of lightning half blinded him with its lurid glare, but when he was again accustomed to the darkness, he saw a dull glimmer in the distance, and supposing it to come from the hotel, sprang down the rock again to Violet's side.

"This way," he said, "dear Violet; I see a light, and from the direction of it, I think it must be from our hotel. Keep up courage, and we shall soon reach

it."

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 toward the place from which the dim light still seemed to allure them by its wavering and uncertain flicker.

CHAPTER XVII.

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 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."

Fortunately for you, and has gone to bed,"

"No, they've not come yet. Eva, Aunt Dudley is very tired 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."

"Well, I hope they'll be in soon, for it begins to look lowering. I've ordered tea for you; make haste and come down to it. You're ready for tea, Cyril, I have no doubt."

"Rather!" said Cyril, reviving; for fatigue had made him very quiet during the last half hour. And,

indeed, the tempting-looking display on the table, the bright teapot, and substantial meal, and amber-colored honey, would have allured a more fastidious appetite.

They ran up stairs to make themselves comfortable before having tea and retiring to bed, and on re-entering the warm and glowing room, their first question was, "Have they come?"

"No," said Mr. Kennedy, anxiously; and even the boy's face grew grave and thoughtful, as Julian rose from the tea-table, and said, "I must go and search for them."

He seized his straw hat, put on his boots again, and ran out, calling on the guide to accompany him. They took out with them a lighted torch, but it was instantly extinguished by the streaming rain. Julian and the guide shouted at the top of their voices, but heard no sound in reply; and the darkness was now so intense, that it was madness to proceed farther amid that howling storm.

They ran back to the inn, where the rest sat round the table, pale and trembling with excessive fear. In reply to their hasty questions, Julian could only shake his head sorrowfully.

"The guide says that in all probability they must have been overtaken by the storm, and have run to some châlet for refuge. If so, they will be safe and well treated till the morning."

"You children had better go to bed," said Mr. Kennedy to Eva and Cyril, who reluctantly obeyed. "You cannot be of any help, and directly the storm. begins to abate, Julian and I will go and find the others."

"Oh, papa," sobbed Eva; "poor Eddy and Violet, what will become of them? perhaps they have been struck by the lightning."

"They are in God's hand, dearest," he said, tenderly kissing her tearful face, "as we all are. In His hand they are as safe as we.'

"In God's hand, dear Eva," said Julian, as he bade her good night. "Go to sleep, and no doubt they will be here safe before you awake."

"I shall not sleep, Julian," she whispered; "I shall go and pray for their safety. Dear, dear Eddy and Violet."

Cyril lingered in the room.

"Do let me stay up with you, Julian. I couldn't sleep-indeed, I couldn't; and I might be of some use when morning comes, and when you go to look for them. Do let me stay, Julian."

Julian could not resist his brother's wish, though Mr. Kennedy thought it best that the boy should go to bed. So they compromised matters by getting him to lie down on the sofa, while they sat up, and stared out of the windows silently into the rain. How wearily the time goes by when you dread a danger which no action can avert!

Meanwhile the objects of their anxiety had hurried up to the light, and found that it came from the ragged windows of an old tumble-down tenement, built of pineboards which the sun had dried and charred, until they looked black and stained and forbidding. Going up the rotten wooden steps to the door, and looking through the broken windows, Kennedy saw two men

seated, smoking, with a flaring tallow candle between them.

"Must we go in there?" asked Violet; and Kennedy observed how her arm and the tones of her voice were trembling with agitation.

"Isn't it better than staying out in this dreadful storm?" said Kennedy. "The Swiss are an honest people, and I dare say these are herdsmen who will gladly give us food and shelter."

Their voices had roused the inmates of the châlet, and both the men jumped up from their seats, while a large and fierce mastiff also shook himself from sleep, and gave a low deep growl.

Kennedy knocked at the door. A gruff voice bade him enter; and as he stepped over the threshold, the dog flew at him with an angry bark. Violet uttered a cry of fear, and Kennedy struck the dog a furious blow with the nobbed end of his alpen-stock, which for the moment stunned the animal, while it drew down on the heads of the tired and fainting travelers a volley of brutal German oaths.

"Can you give us shelter?" said Kennedy, who spoke German with tolerable fluency. "We have lost our way, and cannot stay out in this storm."

The man snarled an affirmative, and Violet observed with a shudder that he was an ill-looking, one-eyed fellow, with villainy stamped legibly on every feature. The other peasant looked merely stolid and dirty, and seemed to be a little better than a crétin, as he sat heavily in his place without offering to stir.

"Can't you give us some food, or at any rate some