It came in a swooping downpour that beat upon the trees and bushes and roared upon the roof of the chapel.

The minister hurriedly raised his umbrella.
"Here!" he cried, "let me--Miss Van Horne! Where are you ?" The answer came from a short distance down the "Turn-off." "Good night," called the girl.

"I must run." Evidently, she WAS running.

Therefore the young man ran after her.

He caught up with her in a moment, in spite of some stumbles over the rough road.
"Here!" he commanded, "you must take the umbrella.