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August, and the long, long heather, was dyeing the moors and the mountains. And the bell-heather, pink and purple, was fading by the burn sides slowly, and the blue, blue noon was burning up above the sharp granite peaks which glistened back like diamonds to the unshadowed sun.

And the three boys had lain among the brakens in their indolent happy mood, and watched the ebbing of the tide, and the gleaming of the wet shingle, and the idle flapping of the sails that were wooing a wind in vain, till a sparkle from the Red Rock which hung midway up the glen, had made them think how glorious to climb the great boulder in the sun.

Midway up the glen it hung. At some time, long, long ago, in a great storm of the mountains, it had been torn from their brow. And now embedded in the heather, its ancient scars all filled with the lichens and the brownveined spleenwort, and the little pink and white-flowered stone-crop, dainty and tender and strong, it stood a great weather-beaten land mark, which travellers curiously examined, but passed and left unscaled.

'It's rather hot,' said Johnnie, when, the cool brakers left behind and the fringes of birch and alder, they trod the long upland glen.

'Look here,' said Alick Barnard, 'there must be no backing out-if you want to come, come; and if you don't, you can get safe home yet, and go. Don't be codding off; you're not afraid of it if you are. I'm going, but that's no matter.' 'Afraid!' exclaimed Johnnie, looking hotly up at his brother, who was one head taller than he, and broader in degree. And he wiped the drops from his brow, and strode through the knee-deep heather.

'He can turn when he wants,' said the third, who was Alick's age, and no brother. But no one answered to this, and they went on together, growing silent as the glen grew wilder.

'Think what it would be, M'Ian, to be lost in a place like this,' said Alick, half under his breath, and with a boy's love for conjuring up what seemed a possible danger.

'Lost!' repeated M'Ian with a laugh and a shiver. He looked at the gleaming granite

where there played not the faintest of mistwreaths.

'O, we're all right,' said Alick, answering his look, 'but there are plenty of fellows have been lost among the mountains-it always seemed to me awful-think what it would be, an eagle may be your next neighbour with a half eaten baby in its eyrie, and the mists curled and curled, and crags and torrents and moors between you and any human soul-I should like to try it; but would'nt it be awful now?'

'Yes, too awful for me, I don't care for that sort of thing as you do-you're always after something queer.'

But there was a certain re-assurance in the sharp peaks cut against the sky, and the blackfaced sheep that would stop their nibbling on the heights, and look at them with half scared eyes.

And after that they went on silently enough, breathing the sweet, wholesome scents of the bog-myrtle and the thyme, till both were left behind, and the Red Rock frowned down upon them.

Now, the great boulder, as has been said, had tender streaks in it. It's scars were filled with mountain flowers, than which no flowers are sweeter: and in the cool moist, grey shadows which were made by the ledges of the rock, there grew such fairy ferns as no where else may be gathered.

Always in stern places there is shed such redeeming fairness-streaks of specks of but intenser loveliness-that we may know the God of strength is the God of gentleness toothat we may be glad through our reverence, that love may cast out fear.

One short eager strain of strength and skill; feet in the stone-crop crevices, hands clutching the heather tufts, vehement mutual warnings and encouragements, and the top of the Red Rock was gained. The three boys, stretched hot and wearied on the great, sloping boulder, looked down on the tumbled glen which lay deep and shadowy with the white water foaming through it, and loneliness like a spirit, brooding over the purple dark. "This is grand.'

That was all they said for a while. And then when the stillness grew, as most among the mountains have felt, into something of a Presence, one of them spoke again.

'No God! would that not be awful, Harry.' For it was natural to talk of such things; the stillness was like a church, and the closing in of the mountains suggested Bible days.

The boys did not smile nor wonder at that sudden, solemn thought of Alick's. They answered with their silence, and Alick spoke again. 'Did you ever try to think what it would be like ?

'No.'

'I did, once.' 'When ?'

'I'm not going to tell that, for it's awful to think of. I was only trying, because I heard somebody say it. I'm never going to try again, never.'

What made you ever try it?' 'Did'nt I tell you? I heard somebody say it. Don't you mind that. It was like

Robinson Crusoe on the desert island, but far worse. You don't know till you try what it feels like, Harry. Do you know when I look at that picture of Robinson finding Friday's foot-print on the sand, it always makes me remember how I felt then. It was when I had been miserable for days; and all at once, I don't know how it was, I felt quite sure that God was really round me. Some feelings in us are signs of God, real signs, just as there could'nt have been a foot-print on the sand, if Friday had not left it there.'

'And the sea, and the dry land,' answered Harry slowly, awed by the thought of his friend which he could not make quite his own, and going back to the Bible for the proofs which lay so open before them.

'Yes, but these are different, they are not signs like the other. Harry, I could'nt live unless I knew God lived too.'

Harry answered nothing, and Johnnie, in a tired voice, said :

'Everybody knows that, Alick, what makes you talk like that to-day?'

Then Alick grew silent too; and looked up at the glistering mountains, and heard the curlew's cry, and the loud laughter of the water that broke down the rocks in the glen: and these seemed to give the answer which his own lips could not make.

But Harry was oppressed by the silence. He stretched himself along the boulder, and looked over its further side.

It's as steep and smooth as a wall,' he said, turning his face half round, 'we'll drop it, Alick, the heather's splendid below.'

Then Alick woke from his own happy and grave thoughts, to lean towards the edge of the rock, and measure its height with his eye. 'It's too high for Johnnie.' 'We can catch him.'

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'I can drop it well enough,' protested Johnnie.

'But how will we get along; we can't climb back again, you see.'

"There's a path round the other side, I saw it coming up the glen.'

'All right, then,' said Alick.

In a moment his hands were on the edge of the sharp, steep, glistering boulder, and then he lay amidst shouts of laughter in the long elastic heather below.

'It's glorious; you can't get hurt,' he cried, plunging, with an ecstacy of pleasure in the deep, fragrant purple bloom, tumble down, Johnnie, it's all right however you come.'

And Johnnie did tumble down,' and Harry after Him, and the long, rich heather received them, pliant, tender, strong, like a good nurse's arms.

There was nothing but heather to be seen,-waves on waves of it; only here and there a sharp, granite rock, protruding through the warm purple.

No sunny rock-roses; no myrtle now. 'Now for the path,' said Alick, the first to rise from his couch, 'it's uncommonly jolly here, but we'd best find our way.'

'Yes, the glen might put on its night-cap too soon to suit us.'

And they rose with laughter and jests to seek Harry's 'path.'

The heather on which they stood covered but a tiny plat, which the rocks overhung on two sides, and broke away from one another in a wild, impassable mass.

The one apparent egress was close under the Red Rock.

"This is the way,' shouted Alick, 'its narrow, take care, Johnnie, hold by the heather.'

Alick was some yards in front. Suddenly he stood still. He muttered somehow short words, were they of prayer or fear? His companions heard the sound, they could not tell what he said.

'What have you come to?' they called. 'Nothing.'

The answer was low and hoarse; the boy had drawn back a step, they could see his features set firm, a sudden paleness over them. They were by his side in an instant; and then all stood still, for their way was barred by a precipice that sank down sheer and deep, and was lost in a shadowy mass of torn and splintered granite, far, far down, where no foot had ever been.

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They looked at one another-alone in the dreadful silence-and then Johnnie trembling as with cold, clung to his brother's arm. Alick, Alick, what can we do?' 'Nothing,' said Alick.

He put his arm round Johnnie, holding him fast, with that rush of brotherly tenderness which comes in danger or in death. And Johnnie pressed closer still not speaking nor shedding tear, but saying by the mute gesture,

'Let us meet the worst close together.'

O the frown and the fierceness that seemed in the glistering mountains!

White and weak in the shadow of the Red Rock, Harry had sank down.

'Let us look better,' said Alick, 'Harry, get up and come.'

And Harry rose with a fierce hope, that was like despair in his eyes.

But way of retreat there was none. It was many hours later, and the cold shadows of the mountains stretched heavily down the glen, the sea was lit with the sunset, but the sea lay far away. And the boys sat down with their fearful fate staring on them through the gloom.

Johnnie, in abandon of sorrow, was crying on his brother's shoulder, and Harry on the other side, leaned on the same friend, in a dull sort of patience of fear, speaking never a word. 'Harry, God lives, you know.' 'Yes,' said Harry, listlessly. 'And He can help us if He will.'

'Yes,' said Harry, in a tone as hopeless as before.

'We'll pray to Him,' said Alick, and he rose and knelt on the heather. For the danger and darkness and loneliness had banished all timidity and pride. And Harry cast off his stupor, and knelt beside him too, and Johnnie, still clinging to his brother, fell also on his knees.

It was an inaudible prayer that rose from the heart of each, a long, entreating prayer to the strong, the gentle God, the God to whom in all sorrow we go with the true childinstinct that feels for the father's, the mother's hand, in dark places and lonely.

Harry's stupor was gone when they rose. He looked into Alick's face. Alick wondered to see the brave, quiet light, that had come to his. 'Would we not sing a hymn, and then we might sleep,' he said.

Sleep! Alick looked at the boy. 'Yes, sing,' he answered.

And Harry's voice rose instantly, loud and

clear, in the words of the psalm-the mountain psalm of David.

'I to the hills will lift mine eyes

From whence doth come mine aid.' Alick and Johnnie joined, and the psalm wafted loud as their voices could carry it over the rocks and the heather. And while they sang, the moon rose up on the ridge of the mountains, and looked down with a sweet familiar face, that was like a promise after prayer.

'Sing it again,' said Johnnie.

And the same psalm rose once more; for their hearts had bitter need of it in the night, and the loneliness.

Before the last line was finished, Johnnie's eyes had closed. He slept on his brother's arm, a tranquil, sound sleep.

'Listen! that was a sound.'

Harry sprang to his feet. A rude, strong voice was shouting through the dark, somewhere high above them.

'Where awa, lads. Who's doun there?' 'Three of us,' shouted Alick and Harry together.

Is there no help? we can't get up or down.' 'Atweel no,' said the voice, 'what gat the like o' ye into that uncanny neuk?'

'We dropped from the Red Rock.'

The voice was silent for a minute. 'O don't leave us,' cried Harry in despair. 'I maun leave ye to get help-I maun hae ropes to draw ye up wi'. Lads, gie thanks for the mercy that brought me here this night. I'll awa for ropes, keep warm till I come back. There's to ye. Wrap yoursel's round with that. It's fended bravely frae mony a blast before.'

And the unseen speaker dropped a shepherd's plaid over the rocks, and there was silence again, the silence of the mountains and the glen.

But the boys in ecstasy of thanksgiving bent their knees once more upon the heather. 'I told you God could help us-He has done it,' said Alick.

It seemed many hours before the shepherd returned, and the rope was thrown over the Red Rock, and one after another was drawn safely to the top. And in the early morning twilight they went back down the long glenJohnnie in the shepherd's arms, and the moon still fair above the mountains.

But they learned in that fearful night, a trust they would lose, never. For they had been alone with God, and God had sent them aid.

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