roof was high above their heads. Behind there was a
dark, deep little recess, blackened with smoke, which the boys had
evidently used as an oven. The side of the hill jutted out slightly
above them, and this, rather than the seven feet of depth possessed by
the niche, made it possible that they would escape the rain.

The cave was in an angle of the hill. From Heathcote's side part of the
main road could be seen, and the saw-mill; but Anne, facing the other
way, saw only the fields and forest, the sparkle of the little
mill-stream, and the calmer gleam of the river. One half of the sky was
of the deepest blue, one half of the expanse of field and forest golden
in the sunshine. Over the other half hung a cloud and a shadow of deep
purple-black, which were advancing rapidly, although there was not,
where the two gazers sat, so much as a breath of stirred air.

"It will soon be here," said Heathcote. "See that white line across the
forest? That is the wind turning over the leaves. In the fields it makes
the grain look suddenly gray as it is bent forward."

"I should not have known it was the wind," said Anne. "I have only seen
storms on the water."

"That yellow line is the Mellport plank-road; all the dust is whirling.
Are you afraid of lightning?"

"Shall we have it?"

"Yes; here it is." And, with a flash, the wind was upon them. A cloud of
dust rose from the road below; they bent their heads until the whirlwind
had passed by on its wild career down the valley. When, laughing and
breathless, Anne opened her eyes again, her hair, swept out of its loose
braids, was in a wild mass round her shoulders, and she barely saved her
straw hat, which was starting out to follow the whirlwind. And now the
lightning was vivid and beautiful, cutting the blue-black clouds with
fierce golden darts, while the thunder followed, peal after peal, until
the hill itself seemed to tremble. A moment later came the rain, hiding
both the valley and sky with its thick gray veil: they were shut in.

As Heathcote had thought, the drops only grazed their doorway. They
moved slightly back from the entrance; he took off his hat, hung it on a
rock knob, and inquired meekly if they might not _now_ have lunch. Anne,
who, between the peals, had been endeavoring to recapture her hair, and
had now one long thick braid in comparative order, smiled, and advised
him to stay his hunger with the provisions in his own pockets. He took
them out and looked at