you'd gone. Going to have
a tempest, ain't we."

"Tempest" is Cape Cod for thunderstorm. I agreed that one was imminent.

"Hold on till I get this stuff into the vestry," continued Taylor, "and
I'll drive you home. I'll be ready pretty soon."

I declined the invitation. "I'll walk," I answered. "You have Nellie
to look after. If you have a spare umbrella I'll borrow that. Where is
Nellie?"

"Oh, she's over yonder with Miss Colton. They have been making each
other's acquaintance. Say, Ros, she's a good deal of a girl, that Colton
one, did you know it?"

I did not answer.

"Oh, I know you're down on the whole lot of 'em," he added, laughing;
"but she is, just the same. Kind of top-lofty and condescending, but
that's the fault of her bringing-up. She's all right underneath. Too
good for that Carver cub. By the way, if he doesn't come pretty soon
I'll phone her pa to send the carriage for her. If I was Colton I
wouldn't put much confidence in Carver's showing up in a hurry. You saw
the gang he was with, didn't you? They don't get home till morning, till
daylight doth appear, as a usual thing. Hello! that's the carriage now,
ain't it? Guess papa wasn't taking any chances."

Sure enough, there were the lights of a carriage at the gate, and I
heard the voice of Jenkins, the coachman, shouting. Nellie Dean called
Taylor's name and he hurried away. A few moments later he returned.

"She's off, safe and sound," he said. "I judged she wasn't any too well
pleased with her Victor for not showing up to look out for her."

A sharp flash of lightning cut the sky and a rattling peal of thunder
followed.

"Right on top of us, ain't it!" exclaimed George. "Sure you don't want
me to drive you home? All right; just as you say. Hold on till I get you
that umbrella."

He borrowed an umbrella from the parsonage. I took it, thanked him, and
hastened out of the church grounds. I looked up the road as I passed
through the gate. I could have seen an auto's lamps for a long distance,
but there were none in sight. With a malicious chuckle I thought that my
particular friend Victor was not taking the surest way of making himself
popular with his fiancee, if that was what she was.

The storm overtook me before I was half-way down the Lower Road. A few
drops of rain splashed the leaves. A lightning stroke so near and
sharp that I fancied I could hear the hiss was accompanied by a savage
thunder-clap. Then came the roar of wind in the tre