agments.

"It is even as I said. Seest thou yonder light?"

"I see not anything," replied Seaton.

"Just beneath that bright star to our left?" again inquired the elder
traveller.

"I only see a dark hill rising there abruptly against the lowering
swell of the sky."

Our "Friend" was silent for a space, when he replied in a tone of deep
solemnity--

"It is the inward light of which I have spoken to thee before; a token
of no ordinary import. To-night, or I am deceived, we are called on
to pass through no common allotment of toil and tribulation. Oft hath
this light been outwardly manifest, and as often has it been the
precursor of some sharp and fiery trial! Again! But thou seest it not.
Yet mayest thou follow in my steps. Take heed thou turn not either to
the right hand or to the left. But"----The speaker's voice here grew
fearfully ominous and emphatic.

"Hast thou courage to do as I shall bid thee? I must obey the will of
the Spirit; but unless thou hast faith to follow the light that is
within me, rather pass the night on that cold unsheltered rock than
draw back from His witness. Remember, it is no slight peril that
awaits us."

Not without a struggle and certain waverings, which indicated a faith
somewhat less implicit than was desirable on such an occasion, did the
disciple promise to obey--ay, to the very letter--every command that
might be given. Peradventure, a well-founded apprehension of spending
the night companionless on the cold and wet dormitory to which his
evil stars had conducted him, had some influence in this
determination. Suffice it to say, never did disciple resolve more
faithfully to obey than did our young adventurer in this perilous
extremity.

Their path now appeared to wind precipitately down a steep and narrow
defile, through which a rapid torrent was heard foaming and tumbling
over its rugged bed. Following the course of the stream to a
considerable distance, a rude bridge was discerned, sufficiently
indicating a path to some house or village in that direction. The wind
was rising in sharp and heavy gusts. The moon, not yet above the
hills, was brightening the dark clouds that hung behind them like a
huge curtain. The sky was studded, in beauteous intervals, with hosts
of stars. This light enabled them to follow a narrow footpath, which,
abruptly turning the head of a projecting crag, showed them a distant
glimmer as though from some friendly habitation. Seaton bounded past
h