e clamorous winds that howled over the mountain, "Do
you favor the project of returning tamely to the valley and leaving
Mount Washington a wonder unrevealed?"

"No!" answered she, from beneath her thick veil; the muscles of her face
so stiffened with cold she could hardly move her lips.

"Then ride your pony to the centre of these dissenting groups and
propose to move on," said he. "There are none in the party so
craven-souled as to shrink from what a lady dares encounter."

Florence paused a moment, and then guided her pony into the midst of the
company.

"Do you wish to join those who are going back, Miss?" said a guide,
taking hold of her bridle-rein.

"No!" said she in a tone of decision. "I'll lead the way for those who
choose to follow to the summit of Mount Washington."

"Bravo!"--"hurrah!"--"let us on!"--burst from all sides. Three solitary
ones, among them Ellen Williams, turned back, and the others formed into
file and moved onward. Down Mount Franklin and over the narrow path cut
in the cragged side of Monroe, where a single misstep would hurl the
horse and rider down a fathomless abyss, into whose depths the eye dares
hardly for a moment gaze. Then appeared a crystal lakelet, and a little
plain covered with a seedy-looking grass, where the horses rested and
refreshed themselves ere the last desperate trial of their strength and
endurance; for the weary band of adventurers had reached at last the
base of the mighty Washington, whose summit was veiled in heavy clouds.
As they loitered in the plain, the muffled gentleman again approached
Florence, and inquired if she was unattended.

"No, sir," said she. "My father is among the party, also a friend; but
they are not yet come up."

He lingered a moment, and then asked if she would like to dismount.

As the voice met her ear more distinctly, it struck her it had a
familiar sound, and a sudden thought flashed across her mind. She
thanked him for his politeness, but said she was too cold to move.

Her father and young Williams now appeared. "How do you brave it,
Florence?" said Major Howard, drawing in his breath with a shudder.

"Very well, father," answered she.

When the muffled gentleman heard the name Florence pronounced, he
started suddenly and darted a swift glance on the speaker. Then turning
away, he remounted his steed and rode into the front ranks of the line
that was forming. Soon the band commenced their toilsome ascent. The
path wound o