There was a vacuum felt in, and silently acknowledged by, each little heart, which cast a damper over our frolicsome pastimes, so that it was by the greatest effort our childish games could be pursued or kept up at all. At last our merriment fairly died out of itself, and as with one consent, we gathered in a group at the door of the cottage, to watch the threatening storm. Just at this moment, a strange murky darkness overspread the dreary glen; a deceitful calm settled for a moment on the face of the sky, and a mysterious, suspicious hush came over the conflicting elements, foreboding darkly, yet surely, the coming tempest. There we stood, with the anxious mother in the midst intently gazing on the gathering tempest, feeling a strange unearthly sensation of unpending desolation, and all thinking of dear much loved Lucy, and earnestly longing for her return. Blacker and blacker grew the threatening heavens, and more oppressively settled the saddening silence, when the feathery snowflakes silently and softly began to fall hiding first the surrounding hills from our view, and latterly obscuring every landmark in the glen.

"A snow storm,' cried Janet convulsively wringing her hands, 'Lucy, Lucy! what will become of Lucy?' Thicker, and thicker fell the driving snow, and darker, and blacker grew the deepening gloom, the depressing silence only broken at long intervals by the whirring flight of the moorland birds seeking vainly for shelter from the feeding storm. Our little hearts trembled, and our spirits gave way, and the hot tears began to trickle down our cheeks as we looked into each other's faces with all the varied expression of grief and despair, feeling some overwhelming calamity was about to overtake Janet seemed to have entirely lost her presence of mind, and by her frantic gestures and melancholy cries, only served to encrease tenfold our bitter distress.

us.

"I now volunteered to go in search of Lucy, and was just preparing to put my purpose into execution, when a dark figure was dimly seen advancing in the direction of the cottage. As it slowly approached, it soon became evident it was not

the form of Lucy. pectation, and in a the cottage.

Still, we held our breath in eager exfew moments, Adam Johnstone entered

""Lucy! Lucy, our dear Lucy,' frantically exclaimed. Janet, rushing into her husband's arms, and sobbing, like a child. 'Let us put our trust in God: He will temper the wind to the shorn lamb,' was Adam's solemn reply, and gently disengaging himself from her wild-like embrace, he hastily threw his plaid around his brawny shoulders, took down his rustic staff, called his faithful dog, drew his bonnet over his brow, and cautioning us not to leave the cottage, till his return, he left with a steady step, and was soon lost to sight in the thickening snow.

"So calm, yet quick, had been his movements, that it was not till his darkly receding figure had entirely disappeared that I remembered my resolution to go in search of Lucy. Without communicating my intention lest I might be prevented from leaving the cottage in terms of Adam's injunctions, I slipped quietly from the group, and before any obstacle could be thrown in my way, was bounding down the glen.

"I had gone a considerable way without finding any trace of Adam, and soon regretted the rash step I had taken in blindly rushing into danger, without any reasonable hope that I would ever reach the object of my search. I stood still amidst the falling snow, and in utter helplessness burst into tears. Just at this moment the flakes fell less frequently, and became gradually smaller in size till they ceased altogether, and the setting sun shone brightly upon the grey leaden sky, illuminating the dreary glen by his welcome light. At a short distance stood Adam in wild amazement at my unexpected appearance, and when I joyfully rushed to him for protection, he, at first, seemed inclined to chide me for my rashness, but so tenaciously and tenderly did I cling to him, telling him that I must go with him to seek for Lucy, that his brow at last relaxed, and his frown passed away, as he gently covered me with his plaid, grasped warmly my tremb

ling hand, and bade me take courage for the Lord would yet restore to us our dear lost Lucy. "This is only a blink before the storm,' said Adam, and we hastily pursued our way.

"The flakes of snow again began to fall, the sun went down in darkness, and bleak and dreary grew the troubled sky. The winds, which had for sometime slept in ominous silence, now roused into frantic wrath, shook their shaggy manes to the storm, dancing on in their thundering vengeance and desolating fury, driving, and tossing, and wheeling into maddening eddies the light and feathery snowflakes, and shaking the surrounding hills from their very foundations. No wonder my young heart trembled, and my feeble limbs shook with fear, but Adam kept my hand firmly clasped in his, and if it shook too, it was not for fear of the whirlwind or the tempest, but for the weak helpless lamb now wandering in the wilderness far from her own loved sheltered fold. Thicker fell the blinding snow, and drearier grew the hopeless night, yet on we went amidst the storm supported safely by an unseen hand.

"Lucy must have long since left the village,' said Adam solemnly, yet she could not, I think, have passed this spot.' "But you forget, Adam,' I replied, that the snow is deep, and the night is dark.'

666

True, true, poor Lucy has doubtless lost her way. May the Lord have mercy on her.'

66 6

'List, Adam, I hear a distant sound

of music. Listen-do you not hear it?

-a sound as it were

"I do hear a strange-like pleasing sound, but it is not like a human voice-something spiritual, I fear.'

"Yes, Adam,' said I joyfully, 'It is a human voice, and I know the soft notes of that pensive song.'

"Still nearer and nearer came the pleasing sound, until at last we distinctly heard these plaintive words.

O wearily I wander

O'er dreary glen and wold,
All blacker grows the darkness
Which hides me from my fold.

To Thee, O God, Jehovah,
The sorrows of my breast

I tell, for Thou wilt hear me,
And give my spirit rest.

For me there is no coffin,

The snow will be my shroud,
While Angels hover round me,
Like a bright celestial cloud.

O wearily I wander

O'er dreary glen and wold,

Through this increasing darkness

Find not can I my fold.

"The snowflakes suddenly ceased, the moon shone forth in soft and silvery brightness; a moment more, and I and Lucy were rapturously clasped in each others arms.

"Need I tell the sequel. How old Adam embraced again and again his little daughter; and how she related to us as we went joyfully homeward, how long after she had hopelessly wandered among the snow, the idea suggested itself of singing as loudly as she could in the faint hope of her voice reaching the ears of those who might be sent from the cottage in search of her ;-how Janet met us frantic with joy at the door of the cottage, and how all the little ones clung round their beloved sister, refusing for sometime to be parted from her."

“I can easily imagine, Kate, the joyous and happy scene,' quietly said Jeanie, "but you seem to have had a melancholy pleasure in relating or rather dwelling on these interesting incidents in Lucy's early life while I was all impatience and anxiety to hear the sequel."

"Yes, my dear friend, you have penetrated my real feelings. Every picture of life has its bright and its dark side. I love to dwell on the one, but fear to turn to the other. I have no heart at least to dwell on the dark side of this picture. But as we are invited to drink tea this evening at the manse tomorrow I will tell it thee."

PART II.-THE DESTROYER.

"It strikes me, my dearest friend," cheerfully said Kate next morning, "you begin to like our country life. You have probably from childhood been so accustomed to the gay circle of city life that this change to rural scenes and primitive customs and habits has the greater effect on your sensitive nature. And you have been so gentle and silent too; more anxious apparently to listen than to join in conversation, which with your natural amiability and cultivated talents you could possibly so much adorn."

"Yes, Kate," Jeanie replied, "I came rather to be a listener than a prominent speaker, for well knowing your powers of description, warm affections, and still warmer heart, I anticipated learning much during my brief visit to Airniefoul, and I have not been disappointed.

"Dearest Jeanie, you flatter me too much, for the fact is, this glen, the surrounding hills, the villages, the castles, the lochs, the moors of this and the adjoining parishes are so rich in poetic and historic lore, that although you were to prolong your stay at Airniefoul for a full twelvemonth, I would be unable to exhaust their treasures."

"Then let us make the most of our time, Kate. I am all impatience to hear the sequel of the story of Lucy Johnstone." "Let us seat ourselves then in this quiet arbour in the garden, and, as briefly as I can, I will tell it thee:

"Lucy Johnstone had reached her nineteenth year when a young man, the son of a merchant prince of a neighbouring sea-port town, came to reside at the farm of Hayston for the purpose of being instructed by Adam Johnstone in the practical science of agriculture, previous to his departure to Australia to take possession of a large tract of land purchased for him by his father.

"Walter Ogilvy was a younger son, and much beloved