through her brain, a brilliant flash of lightning streamed close by her pale face, and for an instant lit up the earth and sea around.  A tree, a few feet distant, was shattered by the flash.  Her children trembled as the thunder shook the solid ground.  She delayed no longer, but determined at once to start back in the direction of the canoe, and taking each of the smaller children by the hand, with Charlie following, she pointed for the shore.

The rain descended in torrents; the thunder roared, and the lightning flashed.  Through the terrible storm Mrs. Godfrey pressed on, buoyant with a hope that all might turn out well.  As she was staggering from rock to rock with the little ones pitching and stumbling along at her sides, now and again almost blinded and bewildered by the lurid lightning, she felt as one amid the crash of worlds.

Just as she sighted the canoe, which Paul had hauled upon the shore, a sharp, rattling clap of thunder peeled above her head.  This was preceded an instant before by a dazzling blue and golden flash that all but blinded the band of wanderers.  Another and another flash, followed by their thunderbolts, in quick succession shattered a solid rock over which they had just passed.  The whole shore appeared to tremble and crash, and away far out over the surface of the bay the waters seemed as if in a blaze.  The sight was grand and terrible.  Every rock along the shore appeared to sink into an abyss as the lightning passed by, and many of them were riven.  At length Mrs. Godfrey and her children reached the side of the canoe.  There calm and unmoved amid the storm, she knelt, she wept, she prayed.  The waters of Fundy were heaped into angry billows, and dashed their spray over the mother and children assembled round the altar on the shore.  Darkness began to throw its sable mantle over land, rocks and bay.  Margaret was suddenly started, she thought she heard the sound of a voice coming through the gloom.  She turned her head in the direction of the sound, and at that moment a flash of lightning revealed a human form coming toward her.  In an instant it was lost to view, shut out in the darkness.  “Me come!” “Me come!” fell upon her waiting ears.  Margaret, with a heart overflowing with gratitude and swelling with praise, quietly exclaimed “God is love.”  Paul stood before her, panting like a stricken deer, with but one of the children in his arms.  As Margaret looked at him her pale face turned ashen white, her lips quivered and she fell into the arms of Paul Guidon as if dead.  He sat down upon a rock, and by the lightning’s flash bathed her temples with water from the sea shore.  The Indian continued to pour salt water out of his brawny hands upon her head and neck.  In about ten minutes Margaret was restored to consciousness.  When she opened her eyes her missing child was at her side.  Paul Guidon had placed the little fellow in charge of an Indian he had found fishing on the bank of the stream, and he asked him to take the child in his arms and follow on to the shore.