What in thunder shall we do ?' Ann Eliza was sobbing piteously, and when a glare of lightning lighted up the whole heavens, Tom caught a glimpse of her face which was white as marble, and distorted with pain, and this decided him.

He had thought to leave her in the darkness and rain, while he went for assistance either to the Park House or Le Bateau; but the sight of her utter helplessness awoke in him a spark of pity, and bending over her he said, very gently for him: 'Annie,'-- this was the name by which he used to call her when they were children together, and he thought Ann Eliza too long--'Annie, I shall have to carry you in my arms; there is no other way.

It is not very far to your home.

Come!' and stooping low over the prostrate form he lifted her very carefully and holding her in a position the least painful for her, began again to battle with the storm, walking more carefully now and groping his way through the stony field lest he should stumble and fall and sprain him own ankle, perhaps.
'This is a jolly go,' he said to himself, as he went on; and then he thought of Dick and Jerrie, and wondered how they were getting through the storm, and if she had sprained her ankle and Dick was carrying her in his arms.
'He will sweat some, if he is, for Jerrie is twice as heavy as Peterkin's daughter;' and at the very idea Tom laughed out loud, thinking that he should greatly prefer to have Jerrie's strength and weight in his arms to his light, slim, little girl, who neither spoke nor moved until he laughed, and then there came in smothered tones from the region of his vest: 'Oh, Tom, how can you laugh?
Do you think it such fun ?' 'Fun! Thunder! Anything but fun!' was his gruff reply, as he went on more rapidly now, for they were in the grounds of Le Bateau, and the lights from the house were distinctly visible at no great distance away.
'We are here at last.

Thank the Lord.' he said, as he went up the steps and pulled sharply at the bell.
'Let me down.