t. Why, here upon this
lone and gloomy mountain, a secret whispering at my heart tells me to
hope--that my days and nights of disaster are nigh oyer--and that the
turning point of my life is at hand, eyen as that bold peak above us."

"I must confess, Mark, this is a strange time and place for such
rose-coloured visions," said Herbert, as he shook the rain from his
soaked garments; "_my_ imagination cannot carry me to such a lofty
flight."

Mark was too intent upon his own thoughts to bestow much attention on
the tone and spirit of Herbert's remark, and he pressed forward towards
the summit with every effort of his strength. After a brief but toilsome
exertion he reached the top, and seated himself on a little pile of
stones that marked the point of the mountain. The darkness was still
great; faint outlines of the lesser mountains beneath could only
be traced through the masses of heavy cloud that hung, as it were,
suspended above the earth; while over the sea an unusual blackness was
spread. The wind blew with terrific force around the lofty peak where
Mark sat, and in the distant valleys he could hear the sound of crashing
branches as the storm swept through the wood; from the sea itself, too,
alow booming noise arose, as the caves along the shore re-echoed to the
swelling clangour of the waves.

Herbert at last reached the spot, but so exhausted by the unaccustomed
fatigue, that he threw himself down at Mark's feet, and with a wearied
sigh exclaimed--

"Thank heaven, there is no more of it."

"Day will not break for half an hour yet," said Mark, pointing westward;
"the grey dawn always shows over the sea. I have seen the whole surface
like gold, before the dull mountains had one touch of light."

The heavy breathing of the youth, as he lay with his head on Mark's
knees, attracted him; he looked down, and perceived that Herbert had
fallen into a calm and tranquil sleep.

"Poor fellow," cried Mark, as he smoothed the hair upon his brow, "this
toil has been too much for him."

Placing himself in such a position as best to shelter his brother from
the storm, Mark sat awaiting the breaking dawn. The hopes that in the
active ascent of the mountain were high in his heart, already began to
fail; exertion had called them forth, and now, at he sat silently amid
the dreary waste of darkness, his spirit fell with every moment. One
by one the bright visions he had conjured up faded away, his head fell
heavily on his bos