"Possible! Ah, yes!" she replied, a smile of exquisite softness and beauty playing around her lips, as she laid her lovely face against his shoulder with a gesture of such unutterable affection, and childlike innocence, and confiding trust, that Herbert was touched to his very soul.

"Thank God!" he fervently ejaculated, clasping her still closer in his arms, "this is indeed happiness! May the Lord bless and reward your unbounded goodness."

"O Herbert! must we die?" said Ella, recalled at length to a sense of their danger by hearing the furious waters dashing upon the rocks not far from the entrance of the cave.

Blame her not, kind reader, that she recoiled from the prospect of death-and what a death! She was young, and strong, and wondrously happy; and to such, life is passing sweet.

"Must we really die?" she repeated, looking up at him with a wild, wistful, despairing expression.

"Let us pray, my darling," returned Herbert, in a low, quivering voice-it was almost more than he could endure to see her thus suffering.

And kneeling down upon the yellow sand, he threw his arm around her trembling form, and prayed, oh! how earnestly! that they might both be resigned to God's holy will; have faith to meet the approaching enemy without alarm, and find themselves, as earth and earth's objects receded from their sight, safely received into the harbour of rest-the celestial paradise, where all is bright, and pure, and fair-joy unshadowed by a single pang of sorrow; meetings undarkened by the prospect of partings; and life eternal as its Author --death being swallowed up in victory.

After this, Herbert devoted himself to the task of comforting and encouraging Ella, by repeating such words as these,—

"When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee."

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." "Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea."

"Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof."

"The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge." Meanwhile the rolling billows came each moment nearer and nearer, until they approached the mouth of the cave.

Cruel, cruel sea!

The sight of the first wave which made its stealthy entrance inside the cavern sent a thrill of terror through the poor girl's frame; and, giving utterance to a low, moaning cry of anguish, she fell back rigid and insensible in Herbert's arms.

She had fainted!

CHAPTER LXXXV.

THE TURN OF TIDE.

"To die for what we love!

Ah! there is strength in the true heart for this;
It is to live without the vanished light

That strength is needed."

"For death itself I did not fear; 'tis love that makes the pain. Love feareth death. I was no child-I was betrothed that day; I wore a troth-kiss on my lips I could not give away."

MRS. BARRETT BROWNING.

"His voice commands the tempest forth,

And stills the stormy wave;

And though His arm be strong to smite,
'Tis also strong to save."

Scotch Paraphrase.

"BETTER SO," thought Herbert, as he gazed mournfully down upon Ella's fair young face, half hidden by its clustering golden curls: every moment she remains thus will be a merciful respite.'

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And gently bearing her to the farthest extremity of the cavern, out of the immediate reach of the incursive tide, he laid her down upon a bed of dried seaweed, and took another minute inspection of the interior of their prison-house. Having previously examined every corner-groped about him on all sides, in the faint hope of discovering some way by which they might escape the impendent danger, some narrow shelf or aperture in the rough rock which might afford them a temporary place of refuge-he would under other and less appalling circumstances, have considered any additional investigation wholly superfluous; but situated as he now was, with death staring him in the face, and every moment threatening to put an end not only to his own existence, but that of one dearer than himself, he proceeded with sharpened senses and intensified eagerness to institute another and yet closer search.

The roof of the dusky cavern being composed of uneven jaggy rocks, many of them coming a yard or so down from the ceiling, to within about six feet of the ground in different places, the space between them was not easily distinguished from the darkness of the cave, especially towards its inner end. Herbert for a time scanned this roof without observing anything to fix attention; but as his eyes grew more and more accustomed to the gloom, he could discern it, even in its darkest parts, except in one corner, which remained obscure, and required further examination.

By rolling a large stone, which, fortunately for his purpose, lay near, immediately under it, and collecting pieces of loose rock, pebbles, and sand, he made a standing-place sufficiently elevated to enable him to clamber into a chasm between rocks, which he could not at first discover, owing to the great obscurity.

His joy may easily be imagined at finding, on further exploration,

that there was a cleft, wide enough to admit more than one person. Still a desperate doubt remained as to how high the spring tide might rise. He, however, lost not an instant in coming down from the only place which offered a chance of safety, and hastily communicated the good tidings to Ella, who had in the interim recovered from her fainting fit, but was still reclining, motionless and dejected, in the spot he had left her.

With his assistance she rose, and soon reached the little platform of stones and sand he had erected. It was not, of course, without much difficulty and delay that Herbert was able, standing upon such infirm materials, to succeeded in raising her up to the height required for entering the darksome friendly fissure.

Never did so fair a creature take refuge in a less inviting place. Nevertheless her feelings on gaining it were those of unmitigated delight; for, as Herbert did not deem it advisable to explain to her how uncertain and precarious their situation still was, she concluded that they were in effect already saved-saved as by a miracle from a slow and dreadful death; that she would ere long be restored to her affectionate friends and most happy home; that the only cloud which threatened to embitter her future prospects was removed. The wise, the good, the excellent, the noble being, to whom her idolised brother owed his life, was no longer proud and distant, shunning her society, and treating every one else with more apparent kindness and courtesy than herself; but she, so unworthy, so ignorant, so timid, so useless (this was her meek estimation of a character which others read somewhat differently), she was now the confidante of the innermost feelings of his heart, the object of his tenderest love, for whose sake he had been prepared to sacrifice the happiness of a lifetime, to say nothing of the double risks he had that day incurred upon the bare and improbable possibility of being able to rescue her from a watery grave. While these thoughts rapidly passed through Ella's mind, Herbert effected his own entrance into the sheltering chasm.

He was not a moment too soon; for scarcely were his feet lifted off the heap he had so laboriously amassed (his only implement being the blade of an oar), when it was overwhelmed by the advancing tide.

A half-articulated cry of joy came to the young man's lips at this signal and hair-breadth escape, and it was echoed by Ella, whose ear had detected the sound of the gurgling waters just as she felt her hand grasped by Herbert, and knew that he was safe.

"O Herbert !" she whispered, convulsively returning the pressure of his hand, "was it not fortunate that you discovered this?"

"It was indeed, my darling," he replied, drawing her as far away from the narrow opening as the circumscribed limits of the place permitted, "most providential! Thank God, His ears are ever open to His children's cry."

"Shall we have to remain here long?" inquired Ella, after a pause of several minutes.

"You are feeling ill, dearest," anxiously exclaimed Herbert, fancying he noticed a change in her voice.

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No, not ill," said Ella, drawing a lengthened inspiration, like one who has suddenly awakened from some terrible dream; "only tired." My poor child!" And bringing her closer to himself, he made her rest her head against his shoulder, while he tried to render her position as comfortable as was under the circumstances possible.

"You don't mind the darkness!" he asked presently, in his grave, kind, protecting tones.

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Not with you," she murmured, without moving her head.

Would you like me to sing a hymn? was his next question. Oh, yes," replied Ella, in a more animated manner; "do try Edward's favourite, Abide with me-fast falls the eventide.' ”

6

"A very appropriate one," returned the young man, endeavouring to steady his voice before commencing it.

When he had finished the fifth verse,

"I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless,

Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;

Where is death's sting? Where, grave, Thy victory?

I triumph still, if Thou abide with me."

He paused, and Ella remarked, in a low, musing tone,

"I'm afraid I forgot that, or I should not have been so frightened at the thought of being drowned."

"But timorous mortals start and shrink

To cross this narrow sea,

And linger shivering on the brink,

And fear to launch away," "

said Herbert, softly. "Yours is no exceptional case, my darling; we are all more or less inclined to look upon death with repugnance; we all need to pray

"Reveal Thyself before my closing eyes!

Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies,'

before we can triumphantly repeat the next line,—

"Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee! In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!'"

"I am so ashamed of my faint-heartedness," continued Ella, in a self-accusatory tone; 'or, rather, my grievous want of faith."

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"Want of strength, I should call it," replied Herbert, soothingly. "Your faith never really wavered, your confidence in Christ was not for a moment shaken."

"No, oh, no!" she answered fervently; "only-only I was terrified."

"Even the disciples feared as they entered into the cloud," said Herbert, thoughtfully, "and yet they were blessed with the near and visible companionship of their Divine Master."

And thus he gently soothed her with softly breathed words of comfort and encouragement and loving counsel, which dropped like refreshing dew upon her meek spirit, dispelling her fears, strengthening and invigorating her faith, comfirming her love, and animating her with renewed hope and courage.

And all this time the waters were rising and raging below.

Often and often did Herbert cast an earnest, wistful gaze into the darksome cavern (light, however, when compared with their present place of security), and often and often did his heart sink within him as he noted the gradual swell of the tide.

"A few feet farther, and we are lost!" mused he at last, with an unconscious sigh. And, closing his aching eyes, he did not again

repeat his survey for some minutes. Then it seemed to him (or was it merely the wish which formed the thought?) that no change had occurred during this short interval.

Once more he averted his eyes, and silently waited for what appeared to his vivid imagination to be several hours, though his reason told him that it could be only so many minutes.

Oh, joy, joy! when next he looked, there was a change-slight, it is true, but perceptible. The tide had turned, and they were saved! Of course, a very considerable time must necessarily elapse ere the cavern would be sufficiently free from its encroaching flood to enable them to descend from their close and confined prison-house; yet Herbert's relief was so intense, his gratitude to that Being who had so miraculously guarded and preserved them in the midst of such great peril so fervent, and his happiness at the prospect of restoring his beloved Ella to her despairing friends so perfect and complete, that he could at first think of nothing else.

Although he had scrupulously refrained from letting Ella know the full extent of their imminent peril, he could not help giving utterance to some of the joyful feelings which stirred his heart when he found that all danger was happily over.

"And have you been kept in suspense until now?" she asked, in mingled surprise and alarm. "Oh, why did you not let me know?" "You have suffered enough already, my poor darling," was Herbert's tenderly affectionate answer.

"And you !" she whispered, "what must you have suffered !—and all for my sake! Ah, Herbert," she added, with a sudden and irrepressible outburst of grateful emotion, "I have not deserved such devoted kindness. I am so very unlike you."

"Unlike me!" repeated Herbert, trying to speak lightly; "I should hope so indeed! I should be sorry for my precious little wife to be simply a ditto of myself!"

For a moment his conscience smote him for adopting such a tone towards her but only for a moment. He felt that although nothing short of the bitterness of beholding Ella about, as he supposed, to perish before his eyes, could have wrung from him the avowal of his sentiments; yet, having once declared them, and being assured in return of her affection for himself, it was his duty, no less than his privilege, to urge his suit in a more regular form, and try, if possible, to prevail upon Lady Stanley to give her consent to their engagement.

The sun had long since set when at length they left the cave, and the moon's silvery radiance shone over the rippling water, as they traversed the sands on their way home.

Instead of extending their route by crossing the headland, and climbing the steep and in many places dangerous paths which led to the top of the cliff on the other side, where he had requested the fishermen to meet him, Herbert preferred returning by the same road they had come.

He was grieved to see how pale and exhausted poor Ella looked, and greatly feared that what she had that afternoon undergone might result in some serious illness.

He would not suffer her to walk, but himself carried her every step, until they had ascended the intricate little footpath which brought them within sight of the house. They had scarcely time to observe the signs of confusion and commotion which pervaded the