a certain
point to the left, where the hill on the other side looked less broken,
and, turning the horse's head in that direction, struck him smartly with
the whip. The horse advanced a step or two, the water rose quickly to his
body, and he refused to go any farther. Neither coaxing nor whipping
could move him. There was nothing to do now but to wait for the next
flash of lightning. It was long to wait, for with the continuance of the
storm the lightning had grown less and less frequent. Charlton thought it
the longest five minutes that he ever knew. At last there came a blaze,
very bright and blinding, leaving a very fearful darkness after it. But
short and sudden as it was, it served to show Charlton that the sheet of
water before him was not a pool or a pond, but a brook or a creek over
all its banks, swollen to a river, and sweeping on, a wild torrent. At
the side on which Charlion was, the water was comparatively still; the
stream curved in such a way as to make the current dash itself against
the rocky bluff.

CHAPTER XIII.

A SHELTER.

Albert drove up the stream, and in a fit of desperation again essayed to
ford it. The staying in the rain all night with Katy was so terrible to
him that he determined to cross at all hazards. It were better to drown
together than to perish here. But again the prudent stubbornness of the
old horse saved them. He stood in the water as immovable as the ass of
Balaam. Then, for the sheer sake of doing something, Charlton drove down
the stream to a point opposite where the bluff seemed of easy ascent.
Here he again attempted to cross, and was again balked by the horse's
regard for his own safety. Charlton did not appreciate the depth and
swiftness of the stream, nor the consequent certainty of drowning in any
attempt to ford it. Not until he got out of the buggy and tried to cross
afoot did he understand how impossible it was.

When Albert returned to the vehicle he sat still. The current rippled
against the body of the horse and the wheels of the buggy. The incessant
rain roared in the water before him. There was nothing to be done. In
the sheer exhaustion of his resources, in his numb despondency, he
neglected even to drive the horse out of the water. How long he sat
there it would be hard to say. Several times he roused himself to utter
a "Halloo!" But the roar of the rain swallowed up his voice, which was
husky with emotion.

After a while he heard a plashing in the