"I must have a drink," he said.
He caught hold of the handle of the pail, and was about to dip in his head when——
Flash! flash! across the sky came the lightning, and then a deafening roar of thunder.
"It's the old Witch!" he cried, dropping the handle of the pail again.
"It's the thunder-storms tumbling out of the cask," said Jill, letting go of her side of the pail too.
They started to run on home, but Jack caught his foot in the handle of the pail as it rolled down the hill. He fell headlong, cutting his head on a stone in the pathway. Jill tried to stop, but somehow got entangled with Jack's feet, and fell headlong too.
All the while the lightning was flashing and the thunder roaring overhead, and then, splash! splash! great drops of rain came pouring down upon them.
How it rained! It splashed down in torrents! Streams and streams of it! Drop after drop, shower after shower, storm after storm.
"I must have opened all the casks at once," said Jill.
Jack lay still where he was, he did not heed his broken head or his drenched clothes.