ever!'

'Don't be frightened,' said Mary. 'I know every step of the way.'

So, leaning on her lover, and yet guiding him, slowly, step by step,
groping their way through the darkness, Lady Mary led Mr. Hammond down
the winding track along which the ponies and the guides travel so often
in the summer season. And soon they began to descend out of that canopy
of fog which enveloped the brow of Helvellyn, and to see the whole world
smiling beneath them, a world of green pastures and sheepfolds, with a
white homestead here and there amidst the fields, looking so human and
so comfortable after that gloomy mountain top, round which the tempest
howled so outrageously. Beyond those pastures stretched the dark waters
of Thirlmere, looking like a broad river.

The descent was passing steep, but Hammond's strong arm and steady
steps made Mary's progress very easy, while she had in no wise
exaggerated her familiarity with the windings and twistings of the
track. Yet as they had need to travel very slowly so long as the fog
still surrounded them, the journey downward lasted a considerable time,
and it was past five when they arrived at the little roadside inn at the
foot of the hill.

Here Mr. Hammond insisted that Mary should rest at least long enough to
take a cup of tea. She was very white and tired. She had been profoundly
agitated, and looked on the point of fainting, although she protested
that she was quite ready to walk on.

'You are not going to walk another step,' said Hammond. 'While you are
taking your tea I will get you a carriage.'