And as he spoke a zigzag flash ripped open the dark screen, and a crackling peal came rattling over the lead-coloured sea and bellowed past them in long-drawn reverberations. "Johnnie was right after all, the little monkey." "I'm sorry now I didn't give him that sixpence," said Miss Penny. "I don't suppose it would have made much difference--except to Johnnie. However, I hope it will soon blow over. Good thing we've got a shelter, and we can enjoy our tea while the elements settle matters among themselves outside." The storm broke over them before the kettle boiled. The rain thrashed the house fiercely under the impulse of a wild south-west wind, which grew wilder every minute, and the thunder bellowed about them as though the very heavens were cracking. "This is a trifle rough on inoffensive pilgrims," said Graeme. "I'm really sorry to have got you into it." "You didn't do it on purpose, did you, Mr. Graeme?" asked Miss Penny, with pointed emphasis. "I did not. I devoutly wish you were both safe home in the Rue Lucas." "All in good time. Meanwhile, we might be worse off, and this tea is going to be excellent. Margaret, my child, do you know that tea under these conditions is infinitely preferable to tea in Melgrave Square, under any conditions whatsoever?" "It is certainly a change," said Margaret. "And a very decided improvement. It's what some of my young friends would call 'just awfully jolly decent,'" said Miss Penny. "We're not out of the wood--that is to say, the island--yet," suggested Graeme. "Or we shouldn't be here enjoying ourselves like this. Brecqhou is sheer delight." "On a fine day," said Margaret quietly. "Or in a thunderstorm," asserted Miss Penny militantly. But Margaret would not fight lest it should seem like casting reflections on their present estate. The thunder rolled over the wide waters with a majesty of utterance novel to their unaccustomed city ears, the rain drew a storm-gray veil over everything past the well, the wind waxed into hysterical fury, tore at the roof and gables, and went shrieking on over Sark. And above the rush of wind and rain, in the short pauses between the thunder-peals, the hoarse roar of the waves along the black bastions of Brecqhou grew louder and louder in their ears. Graeme's face grew somewhat anxious, as he stood at the window and peered westward as far as he could see, and found nothing but fury and blackness there. He had a dim recollection of hearing of outer islands such as this being cut off from the mainland for days at a time. He could imagine what the sea must be like among the tumbled rocks below. And he had seen the Race of the Gouliot in storm time once before, and doubted much if any boat would face the whirl and rush of its piled-up waters. What on earth were they to do if the men could not get across for them? Suppose they had to pass the night there?