sent ye," said Jim, throwing over the poor
man's shoulders an ample blanket; and putting one of his large arms
around him, he led him shuffling out of the hall, and shut and bolted
the door.

He had no sooner done this, than the bedlam inside broke loose. There
were yells, and howls, and curses, but Jim did not stop for these.
Dizzied with his effort, enveloped in thick darkness, and the wind which
preceded the approaching shower blowing a fierce gale, he was obliged to
stop a moment to make sure that he was walking in the right direction.
He saw the lights of the village, and, finding the road, managed to keep
on it until he reached the horse, that had become uneasy under the
premonitory tumult of the storm. Lifting Benedict into the wagon as if
he had been a child, he wrapped him warmly, and put the boy in behind
him, to kneel and see that his father did not fall out. Then he turned
the horse around, and started toward Number Nine. The horse knew the
road, and was furnished with keener vision than the man who drove him.
Jim was aware of this, and letting the reins lie loose upon his back,
the animal struck into a long, swinging trot, in prospect of home and
another "pail iv oats."

They had not gone a mile when the gathering tempest came down upon them.
It rained in torrents, the lightning illuminated the whole region again
and again, and the thunder cracked, and boomed, and rolled off among the
woods and hills, as if the day of doom had come.

The war of the elements harmonized strangely with the weird fancies of
the weak man who sat at Jim's side. He rode in perfect silence for
miles. At last the wind went down, and the rain settled to a steady
fall.

"They were pretty angry about my going," said he, feebly.

"Yes," said Jim, "they behaved purty car'less, but I'm too many for
'em."

"Does Father Abraham know I'm coming?" inquired Benedict. "Does he
expect me to-night?"

"Yes," responded Jim, "an' he'd 'a' sent afore, but he's jest wore out
with company. He's a mighty good-natered man, an' I tell 'im they take
the advantage of 'im. But I've posted 'im 'bout ye, and ye're all
right."

"Is it very far to the gulf?" inquired Benedict.

"Yes, it's a good deal of a drive, but when ye git there, ye can jest
lay right down in the boat, an' go to sleep. I'll wake ye up, ye know,
when we run in."

The miles slid behind into the darkness, and, at last, the rain
subsiding somewhat, Jim stopped, partly to rest his