As it happened she gave an exclamation and looked up. A bank of dense black cloud had covered the high sun that had shone upon them till then. The sky was divided in two by a distinct line. To seaward, blue, clear, exquisite. To landward and above the vivid broken coast hung massed clouds of most fearsome appearance. Clouds above clouds--the lowest, greyish battalions tearing along at headlong speed; above them others of purple black, moving statelily at a different angle; above them again piled heaps of strange shapes, shot and lined with coppery tints. These were moving at a different pace, and in a different direction. As far as eye could see over the hilly land was black. And the black was devouring the sunny blue. Christobel looked up, round, and landward. Then she said in rather a small voice: "How _horrid_!" and turned her eyes seaward. Adrian contemplated the heavens with a frown, then he got up, saying one might as well put away the things. He put them away, and incidentally made everything snug inside; nothing was left loose to shift or roll. Christobel heard him doing it and guessed that he expected it would be necessary. Presently he came up the short companion-way, put his head out and stared at the sky again. The line of black was advancing swiftly over the blue. "We shall have big rain, old lady," he said. "I don’t know how much wind! Of course, it’s only thunder, but----" Low down over the hills shot out a succession of wicked fiery darts. They stabbed downwards into the quiet land as though they would destroy it. Deep ominous rumblings followed. "I think I rather hate it," said Crow uneasily. "I’ll get the mackintoshes out of the fore lockers, expect we shall find a use for them before we are through with this beano! You’ll have to put yours on," Adrian said, then he laughed. "When it comes, it’ll _come_." Then they both laughed, and Christobel as usual found support and comfort in her brother’s matter-of-fact way of looking at things. She was no coward. Her courage was of a high order, though she was not aware of it, but certain conditions affected her imagination and made icy thrills run all over her. Adrian would have said "It’s only a few clouds--what does that matter?" Equally he would have said of a dark night and its mysteries, "If it were daylight you wouldn’t mind! What’s the difference? There’s nothing there." While she gazed at the towering masses that hung over sea and land with dread in her eyes, Adrian thought about mackintoshes. "When the rain comes I shan’t mind," said Crow, "rain is only--well, rain." "How true," murmured Adrian, "and being rain it wets." They both laughed again, and the skipper felt better. But even Addie was quite silent before the wetting part came.