In the morning it was found that the rain had ceased; but worse than rain was threatening; for all along the west the skies were of a heavy and thunderous purple—a louring dark wall, as it were—while torn shreds of grey cloud were being blown along in advance, the precursors of a gale. Mary and Käthchen were both at the window, looking out at the angry heavens and the livid sea beneath, when the maid Barbara came quickly into the room. For the moment Barbara had lost her pretty shyness of manner; she was breathless and excited; her eyes were full of apprehension. "Oh, mem," she said, "do you know what is happening? They have gone aweh up the road, a great many of the young lads, and others; and they have sticks with them; and they are singing _Gabhaidh sinn an rathad mòr_. Oh, I am sure there is harm coming of it! They were saying something of the strange fishermen out at Ru-Minard—and there will be fighting." A sudden dismay filled Mary’s heart—dismay, and a curious sense of helplessness. To whom could she turn for aid in such a crisis—and with every moment a thing of value? "Barbara," she said quickly, "I must have some one to go with me. Is Hector there?" "No, mem, he went up the hill this morning." "Or Hugh?" "No, mem, he was going over to Cruagan, to arrange about the heather-burning, so I was hearing him say." Then Mary turned to her friend. "Käthchen, who is there? Shall we ask the Minister?" "Of course, he is the very person to ask—if you really mean to go, Mamie. But do you think you should?" Käthchen asked, with serious eyes. "It sounds like an open riot." "I don’t care—I must try what I can do—for I fear I am responsible," Mary said, in a kind of desperation; and then she turned to the young Highland lass: "Barbara, we shall want the carriage at once—as soon as ever the horses can be put to. Tell Sandy we are going over to find Mr. Pettigrew; he can come along and meet us. Tell him not to lose a second." And almost directly afterwards the two girls were out-of-doors, hurrying along to the other side of the village, where was the Minister’s cottage. Käthchen was unmistakeably frightened; but all the same she ventured to say— "Well, Mamie, your friends in London have almost given up asking when you are going to marry your cousin—you have kept him at arm’s length so long. But I think if Mr. Meredyth were here just now, he would have a very good chance." "Why?" said Mary, with a certain coldness.