What do you think of this now? For a good web of homespun I can get 5*s.* a yard from the clothiers themselves; and they will do very well when they get 1*s.* or 1*s.* 6*d.* a yard profit; but when I sell in my own store at 6*s.* 6*d.* a yard, then that is all the more coming back to us here at home. Oh, I tell you, you will soon hear plenty of spinning-wheels going, and shuttles clacking, at Lochgarra!" It was a pretty enthusiasm; and Käthchen did not like to say anything. Indeed it was Mary herself who paused in this dithyrambic forecast. She had chanced to look at the gathering skies overhead. "Käthchen," said she, "it was a good thing we brought our waterproofs." Kate Glendinning followed the direction of her glance. "Yes," she answered, "and I think we’d better be getting on." Then here was the business of getting over the stream. Mary went down to the edge of the river; pulled off her shoes and stockings covertly (covertly, in this solitude, where there was not even a hawk poised on wing!) and then put one foot cautiously into the swift-running water. The consequence was a shrill shriek. "No," she said, "I can’t do it. It’s like ice, Käthchen! I’m going to put my shoes and stockings on again; and find some stones or rocks somewhere that I can get across." "You’ll fall in, then," said the matter-of-fact Käthchen, who was by this time over the ankles, and making good progress—with her teeth clenched. But Mary did not fall in. She sought out shallows; and made zig-zag experiments with the shingle and with bigger stones; and if she did get her feet wet before reaching the other side, it was gradually. Very soon it was not of wet feet they were thinking. For when they ascended the opposite hill—entering upon a still wilder region than any they had as yet traversed—they became aware that all the world had grown much darker; and when at length they beheld the far line of the sea, it was of a curiously livid, or leaden, hue. The wind was blowing hard up on these heights; now and again there was a sting of moisture in it—the flying precursor of the rain. But the most ominous thing that met their gaze was a series of sickly-looking, formless clouds that seemed rising all along the western horizon; while the sea underneath was growing unnaturally black. Rising and spreading those clouds were, and swiftly; with a strange and alarming appearance—as if the earth were about to be overwhelmed: they looked close and near, moreover, though necessarily they must have been miles away. At first the two girls did not mind very much; all their strength was needed to withstand the buffetings of the wind; indeed, there was a kind of joyance in driving forward against the ever-increasing gale, though it told on their panting chests. They had to shout to each other, if they wished to be heard. "Where is the ’march,’ Mary?"