he barometer at the hall-door, as was
his habit. To his surprise, the dial gave a great leap downward.
Something was wrong with it evidently, for the sky was as monotonously
blue as it had been all day, and not a leaf stirred in the trees.
However, Mr Armstrong took the precaution to return to his own room for
a moment to consult the barometer there. It, too, answered him with a
downward plunge.

The tutor screwed his glass rather excitedly into his eye, and looked at
the clock. Half-past three. He touched the bell.

"Tell the groom to saddle `Pomona' for me, Raffles. I will come to the
stables in a minute or two and mount there."

"You need a bit of exercise this weather, you do," remarked Raffles to
himself, as he retired, "to keep warm."

A few minutes later the tutor was riding smartly to Yeld. During the
half-hour occupied by that journey the signs of the approaching storm
became manifest. The blue of the sky took a leaden hue, and out at sea
an ominous cloud-bank lifted its head on the horizon, while the sultry
air seemed to breathe hot on the rider's cheek.

He pulled up short at Dr Brandram's door.

"What's the matter now?" asked the doctor. "I hate to see you on
horseback. It always means bad news. Is Mrs Ingleton poorly? I am
not at all comfortable about her."

"No; nobody's ill. But I want you for all that. There's a storm coming
on."

"So the glass says. All the more reason for staying indoors."

"The youngsters from the Hall are out in it."

"Well, can I lend you an umbrella?"

"Don't be an ass, Brandram. They are out in an open boat at sea."

The doctor jumped to his feet.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed.

"They went to the island this morning, and will have started back a
quarter of an hour ago."

"They've caught it already, then," said the doctor. "Look!"

The horizon was lurid with clouds. Pulpit Island out at sea seemed,
instead of three miles distant, to have come in to within a mile. The
channel between, still gleaming in the sun, was struck by a bar of
shadow which seemed like a scar on the surface. The two men, as they
stood in the street looking seaward, could hear already the solemn hum
through the breathless air, and feel the first cool whiff of the breeze
on their faces, while at their feet there fell with a sudden plash a
heavy drop of rain.

"Had they a sail?" asked the doctor.

"No."

"It's coming south-east. They will drive in this side of Sheep Head."