The hymn started raggedly and in a wrong pitch; and just then the great room grew suddenly darker, and there was a low rumble of thunder. "Mary Ogden!" exclaimed Miss Glidden, "what are you doing? They can't go yet!" Mary was singing as loudly and correctly as usual, but she was out in the aisle, and the girls of that class were promptly obeying the motion of hand and head with which she summoned them to walk out of the church. Elder Holloway may have been only keeping time when he nodded his head, but he was looking at Miss Glidden's class. So was Miss Glidden, in a bewildered way, as if she, like little Bo-peep, were losing her sheep. Mary was following a strong and sudden impulse. Nevertheless, by the time that class was out of its pews the next caught the idea, and believed it a prudent thing to do. They followed in good order, singing as they went. "The girls out first,--then the boys," said Elder Holloway, between two stanzas. "One class at a time. No hurry." Darker grew the air. Jack, out in front of the church, was watching the blackest cloud he had ever seen, as it came sweeping across the sky. The people walked out calmly enough, but all stopped singing at the door and ran their best. "Run, Molly! Run for home!" shouted Jack, seeing Mary coming. "It's going to be an awful storm." [Illustration: _"Run for Home."_] Inside the church there was much hesitation, for a moment; but Miss Glidden followed her class without delay, and all the rest followed as fast as they could, and were out in half the usual time. Joe Hawkins heard Jack's words to Molly. "Run, boys," he echoed. "Cut for home! There's a fearful storm coming!" He was right. Great drops were already falling now and then, and there was promise of a torrent to follow. "I don't want to spoil these clothes," said Jack, uneasily. "I need these to wear in the city. The storm isn't here yet, though. I'll wait a minute." He was holding his hat on and looking up at the steeple when he said that. It was a very old, wooden steeple, tall, slender, and somewhat rheumatic, and he knew there must be more wind up so high than there was nearer the ground. "It's swinging!" he said suddenly. "I can see it bend! Glad they're all getting out. There come Elder Holloway and Mr. Murdoch. See the elder run! I hope he won't try to get to Hawkins's. He'd better run for our house." That was precisely the counsel given the good man by the editor, and the elder said: "I'd like to go there. I'd like to see that clever girl again. Come, Murdoch; no time to lose!" The blast was now coming lower, and the gloom was deepening. Flash--rattle--boom--crash! came a glitter of lightning and a great peal of thunder. "Here it is!" cried Jack. "If it isn't a dry blast!"