and
see that my tent is in a condition to resist the storm; and I think you
had better bestir yourself."

Isopel departed, and I remained seated on my stone, as nothing belonging
to myself required any particular attention; in about a quarter of an
hour she returned, and seated herself upon her stool.

"How dark the place is become since I left you," said she; "just as if
night were just at hand."

"Look up at the sky," said I; "and you will not wonder; it is all of a
deep olive. The wind is beginning to rise; hark how it moans among the
branches, and see how their tops are bending; it brings dust on its
wings--I felt some fall on my face; and what is this, a drop of rain?"

"We shall have plenty anon," said Belle; "do you hear? it already begins
to hiss upon the embers; that fire of ours will soon be extinguished."

"It is not probable that we shall want it," said I, "but we had better
seek shelter: let us go into my tent."

"Go in," said Belle, "but you go in alone; as for me, I will seek my
own."

"You are right," said I, "to be afraid of me; I have taught you to
decline Master in Armenian."

"You almost tempt me," said Belle, "to make you decline mistress in
English."

"To make matters short," said I, "I decline a mistress."

"What do you mean?" said Belle, angrily.

"I have merely done what you wished me," said I, "and in your own style;
there is no other way of declining anything in English, for in English
there are no declensions."

"The rain is increasing," said Belle.

"It is so," said I; "I shall go to my tent; you may come if you please; I
do assure you I am not afraid of you."

"Nor I of you," said Belle; "so I will come. Why should I be afraid? I
can take my own part; that is . . . "

We went into the tent and sat down, and now the rain began to pour with
vehemence. "I hope we shall not be flooded in this hollow," said I to
Belle. "There is no fear of that," said Belle; "the wandering people,
amongst other names, call it the dry hollow. I believe there is a
passage somewhere or other by which the wet is carried off. There must
be a cloud right above us, it is so dark. Oh! what a flash!"

"And what a peal!" said I; "that is what the Hebrews call Koul Adonai--the
voice of the Lord. Are you afraid?"

"No," said Belle, "I rather like to hear it."

"You are right," said I; "I am fond of the sound of thunder myself. There
is nothing like it; Koul Adonai behadar: the voice of the L