n steadily, a little
faster every hour. This is an almost sure sign that there is a hurricane
in action somewhere, and, probably, within a few hundred miles of here.

"But tell me, Stuart, since we have been talking, have you noticed any
change in the atmosphere, or in the sky."

"Well," answered the boy, hesitating, for he did not wish to seem
alarmist, "it did seem to me as if there were a sort of reddish color in
the sky, as if the blue were turning rusty."

"Watch it!" said the botanist, with a note of awe in his voice, "and you
will see what you never have seen before!"

For a few moments he kept silence.

The rusty color gradually rose in intensity to a ruby hue and then to an
angry crimson, deepening as the sun sank.

Over the sky, covered with a milky veil, which reflected this glowing
color, there began to rise, in the south-west, an arch of shredded
cirrus cloud, its denser surface having greater reflecting powers,
seeming to give it a sharp outline against the veiled sky.

The scientist rose, consulted the barometer, and returned, looking very
grave.

"It looks bad," he said. "There is not much doubt that it will strike
the island."

"Take to the hurricane wing, then!" suggested Stuart, a little
jestingly. In common with many Barbados houses, the botanist's dwelling
was provided with a hurricane wing, a structure of heavy masonry, with
only one or two narrow slits to let in air, and with a roof like a gun
casemate.

There was no jest in the Old Doctor's tone, as he answered,

"I have already ordered that provisions be sent there, and that the
servants be prepared to go."

This statement brought Stuart up with a jerk. In common with many
people, it seemed impossible to him that he would pass through one of
the great convulsions of nature. Human optimism always expects to escape
a danger.

"But this is the beginning of October!" the boy protested. "I always
thought hurricanes came in the summer months."

"No; August, September and October are the three worst months. That is
natural, for a hurricane could not happen in the winter and even the
early summer ones are not especially dangerous. But the signs of this
one are troubling. Look!"

He pointed to the sea.

The rolling swell was losing its character. The water, usually either a
turquoise-blue or a jade-green, was now an opaque olive-black. The waves
were choppy, and threw up small heads of foam like the swirl of
cross-currents in a tide