Oh!" with a cry of
relief, "there's David now! Here he comes. David, David dear--I am so
glad!"
She sprang down the steps and ran to meet the boy. The rush of the
rising storm kept from hearing William Pressley's call for her to come
back. He stood still for a moment, hesitating, and then, seeing that she
flew on, he followed and overtook her just as she reached David, who was
getting down from the pony and taking the empty bag from the saddle. The
wind was now very violent, and the darkened air was thick with the dead
leaves of the forest swirling into the river which was already lashed
into waves and dashing against the shore. Waterfowl flew landward with
frightened cries; a low, dark cloud was being drawn up the stream over
the ashen face of the water--a strange, thick, terrible black curtain,
shaken by the tempest and bordered by the lightning--pressed onward by
the resistless powers of the air.
There was a lull just as William Pressley reached Ruth's side. It was
one of those tense spaces which are among the greatest terrors of a
storm by reason of their suddenness, their stillness, and their
suspense.
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