HIGHLAND SNOW STORM （Ⅱ）
1.RELIGION with these two young creatures was as clear as the light of the Sabbath-day，and their belief in heaven just the same as in earth.The will of God they thought of，just as they thought of their parents’will，and the same was their living obedience to its decrees.If she was to die，supported now by the presence of her brother，Flora was utterly resigned；if she was to live，her heart imaged to itself the very forms of her grateful worship.But all at once she closed her eyes，ceased breathing，and as the tempest howled and rumbled in the gloom that fell around them like blindness，Ronald almost sunk down，thinking she was dead.
2.“Wretched sinner that I am！My wicked madness brought her here to die of cold！”And he smote his breast and tore his hair，and feared to look up，lest the angry eye of God were looking on him through the storm.
3.All at once，without speaking a word，Ronald lifted Flora in his arms，and walked away up the glen，here almost narrowed into a pass.Distraction gave him supernatural strength，and her weight seemed that of a child.Some walls of what had once been a house，he had suddenly remembered，were but a short way off；whether or not they had any roof he had forgotten，but the thought even of such a shelter seemed a thought of salvation.There it was，a snowdrift at the opening that had once been a door，snow up to the holes once windows；the wood of the roof had been carried off for fuel，and the snow-flakeswere falling in，as if they would soon fill up the inside of the ruin.The snow in front was all trampled，as if by sheep；and carrying in his burden under the low lintel，he saw the place was filled with a flock that had foreknown the hurricane，and that，all huddled together，looked on him as the shepherd，come to see how they were faring in the storm.
4.And a young shepherd he was，with a lamb apparently dying in his arms.All color，all motion，all breath seemed to be gone，and yet something convinced his heart that she was yet alive.The ruined hut was roofless，but across an angle of the walls some pine branches had been flung，as a sort of a shelter for the sheep or cattle that repaired thither in cruel weather，some pine branches left by the wood-cutters，who had felled the few trees that once stood at the very head of the glen.Into that corner the snowdrift had not yet forced its way，and he sat down there with Flora in the cherishing of his embrace，hoping that the warmth of his distracted heart might be felt by her，who was as cold as a corpse.
5.The chill air was somewhat softened by the breath of the huddled flock，and the edge of the cutting wind blunted by the stones.It was a place in which it seemed possible that she might revive，miserable as it was，with the mire-mixed snow，and almost as cold as one supposes the grave.And she did revive，and under the half-open lids the dim blue appeared to be not yet life-deserted.It was yet but the afternoon，night-like though it was，and he thought，as he breathed upon her lips，that a faint red returned，and that they felt the kisses he dropt on them to drive death away.
6.“Oh，father，go seek for Ronald，for I dreamed tonight that he was perishing in the snow.”“Flora，fear not，God is with us.”“Wild swans，they say，are come to Loch Phoil.Let us go，Ronald，and see them；but no rifle，for why kill creatures said to be so beautiful？”Over them，where they lay，bended down the pine-branch roof，as if it would giveGlen Creran，a valley in Scotlandway beneath the increasing weight；but there it still hung，though the drift came over their feet，and up to their knees，and seemed stealing upward to be their shrouds.“Oh！I am overcome with drowsiness，and fain would be allowed to sleep.Who is disturbing me，and what noise is this in our house？”“Fear not，fear not，Flora，God is with us.”“Mother，am I lying in your arms？My father surely is not in the storm.Oh，I have had a most dreadful dream！”and with such mutterings as these Flora relapsed again into that perilous sleep，which soon becomes that of death.
7.Night itself came，but Flora and Ronald knew it not；and both lay motionless in one snow-shroud.Many passions，though earth-born，heavenly all，pity，and grief，and love，and hope，and at last despair，had prostrated the strength they had so long supported；and the brave boy，who had been for some time feeble as a very child after a fever，with a mind confused and wandering，and in its perplexities sore afraid of some nameless ill，had submitted to lay down his head besidehis Flora‘s，and had soon become，like her，insensible to the night andall its storms.
8.Bright was the peat fire in the hut of Flora’s parents in Glenco，and they were among the happiest of the humble happy，blessing this the birth-day of their blameless child.They thought of her，singing her sweet songs by the fireside of the hut in Glencreran，and tender thoughts of her cousin Ronald，were with them in their prayers.No warning came to their ears in the sough or the howl；for fear it is that creates its own ghosts，and all its own ghostlike visitings；and they had seen their own Flora，in the meekness of the morning，setting forth on her way over the quiet mountains，like a fawn to play.
9.Sometimes，too，love，who starts at shadows as if they were of the grave，is strangely insensible to realities that might well inspire dismay.So it was now with the dwellers in the hut at the head of Glen Ccreran.Their Ronald had left them in the morning，night had come，and he and Flora were not there，but the day had been almost like a summer day，and in their infatuation they never doubted that the happy creatures had changed their minds，and that Flora had returned with him to Glenco.Ronald had laughingly said，that haply he might surprise the people in that glen by bringing back to them Flora on her birthday，and，strange though it seemed to her afterward to be，that belief prevented one single fear from touching his mother‘s heart，and she and her husband lay down that night in untroubled slumber.