dress was of no protection whatever. Luther
urged her to control her shaking limbs and try to walk. It could only be
accomplished by much effort. When at last she staggered to her feet, he
put his arm about her and with bent head turned to face the rain, which
cut like switches at their faces and cold shoulders, to which the wet
cotton garments clung like part of the very skin itself.

The wind blew a gale. It was almost impossible to make headway against it.
Had it not been for Elizabeth's chilled state Luther would have slipped
down in a wagon rut and waited for the squall to subside, but it was
essential that the girl be got under shelter of some sort At length, after
struggling and buffeting with the storm for what seemed an age,
alternately resting and then battling up the road toward home, they turned
the corner of the section from which the Hornby house could be seen.

Suddenly, Elizabeth gave a frightened scream. Luther, whose head had been
bowed against the wind, looked up with a start.

"Good God!" broke from his lips.

Only a twisted pile of debris was to be seen where that house had stood.

With the impulse to reach it instantly, they started on a run, hand in
hand, but the fierceness of the gale prevented them. Out of breath before
they had gone a dozen yards, there was nothing to do but stop and recover
breath and start again at a pace more in keeping with their powers.
Impatient and horrified, they struggled ahead, running at times,
stumbling, falling, but not giving up. Terrified by the thought of they
knew not what possible disaster ahead of them, they at last turned into
the little path leading to the ruined house.

Picking their way over scattered bits of household belongings, broken
boards and shingles, for some distance, they at last reached the main pile
of timbers. The girl's heart sank at the thought of what they might find
there, and she made a gesture of distress.

"This is no place for you, Lizzie," Luther said, quick to comprehend, and
sick with pity for her.

As he spoke, his foot sank between some timbers into a pile of wet cloth,
and thinking that it was a human form, he shuddered and fell forward to
avoid giving an injury the nature of which he could only guess.

They dug frantically at the pile, and were relieved to find that it was
only a ragged knot of rainsoaked carpet. It indicated, however, the
possibilities of the moment, and Luther ceased to urge the now frenzied
girl to