The trees had become darker, and a deep shadow passed swiftly across the meadow. “We shall have to run for it!” “Where? There’s no escape, now,” cried Sanine cheerfully. Overhead a leaden-hued cloud floated nearer and nearer. There was no wind; the stillness and gloom had increased. “We shall get soaked to the skin,” said Ivanoff, “so do give me a cigarette, to console me.” Faintly the little yellow flame of the match flickered in the gloom. A sudden gust of wind swept it away. One big drop of rain splashed the boat, and another fell on to Sanine’s brow. Then came the downpour. Pattering on the leaves, the rain hissed as it touched the surface of the water. All in a moment from the dark heaven it fell in torrents, and only the rush and the splash of it could be heard. “Nice, isn’t it?” said Sanine, moving his shoulders to which his wet shirt was sticking. “Not so bad,” replied Ivanoff, who had crouched at the bottom of the boat. Very soon the rain ceased, though the clouds had not dispersed, but were massed behind the woods where flashes of lighting could be seen at intervals. “We ought to be getting back,” said Ivanoff. “All right. I’m ready.” They rowed out into the current. Black, heavy clouds hung overhead, and the flashes of lightning became incessant; white scimitars that smote the sullen sky. Though now it did not rain, a feeling of thunder was in the air. Birds with wet and ruffled plumage skimmed the surface of the river, while the trees loomed darkly against the blue-grey heavens. “Ho! ho!” cried Ivanoff. When they had landed and were plodding through the wet sand, the gloom became more intense. “We’re in for it, now.” Nearer, ever nearer to earth the huge cloud approached, like some dreadful grey-bellied monster. There was a sudden gust of wind, and leaves and dust were whirled round and round. Then, a deafening crash, as if the heavens were cleft asunder, when the lightning blazed and the thunder broke. “Oho—ho—ho!” shouted Sanine, trying to outvie the clamour of the storm. But his voice, even to himself, was inaudible. When they reached the fields, it was quite dark. Their pathway was lit by vivid flashes, and the thunder never ceased. “Oh! Ha! Ho!” shouted Sanine. “What’s that?” cried Ivanoff. At that moment a vivid flash revealed to him Sanine’s radiant face, the only answer to his question. Then, a second flash showed Sanine, with arms outstretched, gleefully apostrophizing the tempest. CHAPTER XXXVI. The sun shone as brightly as in spring, yet in the calm, clear air the touch of autumn could be felt. Here and there the trees showed brown and yellow leaves in which the wistful voice of a bird occasionally broke the silence, while large insects buzzed lazily above their ruined kingdom of faded grasses and withered flowers where luxuriant weeds now waxed apace.