nk of this: she could think only of
Melvina, cowering, wet and afraid, under the juniper bushes.

"Perhaps she will be blown down the slope into the river," thought Anna,
"and it will be my fault. Perhaps I have killed Melvina, by trying to
make myself out as cleverer than she. Oh! If she is only safe I'll never
try to be clever again," she vowed, as she fought her way on against
wind and rain.

As she reached the top of the bluff there was a moment's lull in the
storm, and Anna could clearly see the wide branched juniper bushes where
she had left Melvina.

"Melly! Melly!" she called, scrambling down the slope. But there was no
answer; and in a moment Anna realized that Melvina was not under the
trees.

The storm began again with even greater violence, and Anna was obliged
to cling closely to the rough branches to keep from being swept down the
slope. She could hear the dash of the waves on the shore, and she
trembled at the thought that Melvina might have been swept down into the
angry waters.

After a little Anna, on her hands and knees, crawled up the slope,
clinging to bits of grass here and there, and not venturing to stand
upright until she had reached the top.

She knew what she must do now, and she did not hesitate. She must go
straight to Mr. Lyon's house and tell him the story from the moment that
she had told Melvina that pine trees were alders. For a moment she
wondered what would become of her afterward; but only for a moment did
she think of herself.

It seemed to the little girl that she would never reach the minister's
house. For a moment she rested in the shelter of the church, and then
dragged herself on. Her feet hurt so badly now that it was all she could
do to walk.

There were lights to be seen, up-stairs and down, at the parsonage; but
Anna did not wonder at this. She managed to reach the front door and to
lift the knocker.

In a moment London opened the door, holding a candle above his head.

"Well, boy, who be ye?" he questioned sharply, seeing only Anna's curly
brown head.

"If you please, I am Anna Weston," faltered the little girl. "I--I--must
see the minister. It's about Melvina."

A smile showed on the black face, and London nodded his head.

"Missy Melvina am safe in bed," he whispered, then in a louder tone,
"Step in, if ye please, Missy Anna."

Anna dragged herself up the high step, and Mr. Lyon just then opened a
door leading into his study.

"What is it, London?" h