the sky; a mile to the westward was the low wooded shore
which they were skirting.

"The sun is shining," said Patricia, bewildered. "The sky is blue."

"Look behind you."

She turned and uttered an exclamation. The Alpine range had vanished,
and a monstrous pall of gray-black cloud was being slowly drawn upward
and across the smiling heaven. Even as she looked, it blotted out the
sun.

"We had better make for the shore at once," said Landless. "We can reach
it before the storm breaks and can find shelter for you until it is
over."

Patricia exclaimed: "Why, we cannot be more than three miles from
Rosemead! Surely we can reach it before that cloud overtakes us!"

"I think not, madam."

"Regulus!" cried his mistress imperiously. "We can reach Rosemead before
that storm breaks, can we not?"

Among other amiable qualities, Regulus numbered a happy willingness to
please, even at the expense of truth.

"Sho-ly, 'lil Missy," he said with emphasis.

"And it will not be much of a squall, besides, will it, Regulus?"

"No, 'lil Missy, not much ob squall," answered the obliging Regulus.

"There is much wind in it," said Landless. "Look at those white clouds
scudding across the black; and these squalls strike with suddenness and
fury. I may put the boat about, madam?"

"Certainly not. Regulus, who must know the Chesapeake and its squalls
much better than you possibly can, says there is no danger. I have no
mind to be set ashore in these woods with night coming on and Indians or
wolves prowling around."

"I beg that you will be advised by me, madam."

She looked at him as she had done that day in the master's room. "Is it
that you are _afraid_ of a Virginia squall? If so, you will have to
conquer your tremor. Regulus, keep the boat as it is."

Landless went back to his seat in the bow, with tightened lips. The wind
freshened, coming in hot little puffs, and the Bluebird slid more
swiftly over the low hills. The water turned to a livid green and the
air slowly darkened. Across the black pall, looming higher and higher,
shot a jagged streak of fierce gold, followed by a low rumble of
thunder. A mass of gray-white, fantastically piled clouds whirled up
from the eastern horizon to meet the vast blank sullen sheet overhead.
There came a more vivid flash and a louder roll of thunder.

Landless walked aft and took the tiller from Regulus' hand, motioning
him forward to the place he had himself occupied. The negro stare