a dog flew out of the house and began barking. This brought out a
man, who rudely shouted to the terrified pair that they were trespassing.
They would have fled at once up the torrent-bed, bad as it was for
ascent, but there was a derisive exclamation and laugh, and half-a-dozen
men, half-tipsy, came pouring out of the cottage, bawling to Colibri, the
rough, shaggy white dog, that seemed disposed to spring at the Maltese in
Bertha's arms.

The foremost, shouting in French for the sisters to stop, pointed to what
he called the way, and Bertha drew Maria in that direction, trusting that
they should escape by submission, but after going a little distance, she
found herself at the edge of a bare, deep, dry ravine, steep on each
side, almost so as to be impassable. The path only ran on the other
side. There was another shout of exultation and laughter at the English
girls' consternation. At this evident trick of the surly peasants, Maria
shook all over, and burst into tears, and Bertha, gathering courage,
turned to expostulate and offer a reward, but her horrible stammer coming
on worse than ever, produced nothing but inarticulate sounds.

'Monsieur, there is surely some mistake,' said a clear voice in good
French from the path on the other side, and looking across, the sisters
were cheered by an unmistakable English brown hat. The peasants drew
back a little, believing that the young ladies were not so unprotected as
they had supposed, and the first speaker, with something like apology,
declared that this was really the path, and descending where the sides
were least steep, held out his hand to help Bertha. The lady, whose bank
was more practicable, came down to meet them, saying in French, with much
emphasis, that she would summon 'those gentlemen' to their assistance if
desired; words that had considerable effect upon the enemy.

Poor Maria was in such terror that she could hardly keep her footing, and
the hands both of Bertha and the unknown friend were needed to keep her
from affording still more diversion to the peasants by falling prostrate.
The lady seemed intuitively to understand what was best for both, and
between them they contrived to hush her sobs, and repress her inclination
to scream for Phoebe, and thus to lead her on, each holding a hand till
they were at a safe distance; and Bertha, whose terror had been far
greater than at the robbery at home, felt that she could let herself
speak, when she quiver