way across the little bridge and through the fast-darkening bit of
woodland. The wind fluttered her white garments around her, her long
hair streamed out behind, and her flying feet seemed scarcely to touch
the ground.

Behind her came Anne, less like a wood-nymph, perhaps, but fresh and
fair, and not at all breathless, then Nannie, bareheaded and with her
best hat wrapped carefully in her short skirts, then Amelia, plunging
heavily.

Launcelot waited to help Perkins with the horses and hampers and then
he followed the girls.

The rain came before he was half-way across the stream, and the world
grew dark for a moment in the heavy downpour that drenched him. There
was a blaze of blue-white light, and a crash that seemed to shake the
universe.

"They will be scared half to death," was Launcelot's thought as he
forged ahead.

Just at the edge of the woods he came upon Anne and Judy. Judy had
dropped down in a white huddled bunch, and Anne was bending over her.

"She ran too fast," she explained, while the rain beat down on her fair
little head, "and she can't get her breath. Nannie and Amelia got to
the barn before the rain came, but I couldn't leave Judy."

"I'm all right," gasped Judy, "you run on, Anne. I'm all right."