they would find the carriage at the inn, he would reach home by walking on to meet it, as soon as by going by the short way. Even supposing, however, it were passable, he reminded Leonard of the difficulty of finding his way through the snow-the chance of falling in the track of drifts-that the lake was in that direction, and that before they ascended the lawn, they must skirt it; that it was probably frozen over, and though not sufficiently to bear their weight, sufficiently so to be covered with snow; that he must remember there were several sunk fences and as they might soon lose the pathway, the different stiles and bridges made to enable persons to pass over them, would be difficult, perhaps impossible to find, and they might be delayed till it was dark, and so lose their way altogether.

But Leonard was now obstinately bent on following his own will. He had asserted that it would be a shorter way home, that it would be only a pleasant walk, and that he should delight in surprising his mother by

arriving before the carriage. The opposition of Arthur angered him. "How should he know,” he contemptuously answered, “so much more about the way than he did-he knew best, it was a very short way, and a very pleasant one, and he would go."

Arthur had therefore told Frank to hasten on towards home, as he had determined on accompanying Leonard, as, in spite of Leonard's boasting, he was much better acquainted with the paths than he was, for Leonard was more in the habit of riding than walking, and had probably not gone that way many times in his life. "Tell my father," said Arthur, "the part of the road we have turned off at, and that we propose going round by the lake towards the grove, he will be able then to judge what is best to be done."

They had then separated, and Frank, when he reached the inn, having briefly informed the landlord of the accident that he might send assistance to the coachman, hurried on towards home. Mr. Greville, on hearing

this account, hastened old Thomas with the carriage, telling him when he reached the inn to procure additional assistance and lights, and unless he found the party had returned, to trace their steps by the way Arthur had pointed out. There would be no object gained by his going himself; all that could be done, might as easily be accomplished by others; he thought it better therefore to go with Frank to his mother, and keep up her hopes, and beguile the time by conversation. While they had been arranging this plan, a thought had darted into Mary's mind-she lost not a moment in putting it into execution; she hurried to the yard, and unloosing his chain, bid Carlo go look for Arthur; "go Carlo, go Carlo," she said, and in a moment, as if understanding from her words and manners the cause of her distress, the faithful animal bounded off towards the village.

CHAPTER IX.

"God help thee, traveller, on thy journey, for
The wind is bitter keen; the snow o'erlays
The hidden pits, and dangerous hollow ways
And darkness will involve thee. No kind star
To-night will guide thee, traveller, and the war
Of winds and elements on thy head will break."
-KIRKE WHITE.

We will now return to Arthur and his companion. They had met with no difficulties for a short time; the house, while it continued in sight, was a good guide, and a gleam from the setting sun shining brightly on the windows, made it appear so close, and the way seemed so easy, that they all were soon in buoyant spirits, and rather enjoyed, than otherwise, the wading through the snow; but Arthur was still on his guard,

andwas endeavouring, while yet it was light, to trace, if possible, by his re membrance of the fall of the ground, the exact position of the lake, for that was the chief cause of danger. It was not possible that the ice. could yet be strong enough to bear their weight, and he had recently read an account which proved how delusive was the nature of snow, and how difficult it was to find the straight way through it. Two gentlemen, having been overtaken in a heavy snow storm, though perfectly acquainted with the road, having completely lost their way, and having, as they supposed, walked many miles from home, were overtaken by the night, and found shelter in a kind of cave; when the morning shewed them where they were, they found they were not even near the spot they had supposed, but only a very short distance from that from which they had started. Arthur was therefore anxious to get on while the house remained in sight to guide them, knowing that, to avoid the lake, they must soon turn in a direction where the