"Yes, back across those slippery stones and across the shore, and then back again to this side. I can help you, you know."
Cardo's voice was very low and tender. It seemed ridiculous, but somehow he gained his point.
CHAPTER IV.
THE STORM.
A day or two later on, the weather changed, the wind blew up in angry soughs from the south-west, and, meeting the strong flow of the spring tide, curled the green wave-tops into those small feathers of foam, always the fore-runners of rough weather. The sea-gulls let themselves go before the wind calling to each other excitedly, the little sea-crows stayed quietly at home in the safe crannies of the cliff. Old Dan Griffiths the fisherman hauled his boat further up the strand, and everything betokened the brewing of a storm, nevertheless Valmai was out early. Her small household duties had been attended to. She had skimmed the cream in the dairy, and fed the new calf; she had scattered the grain before the flocks of fowls and pigeons in the farm-yard; had brushed her uncle's coat, and, while helping him to shuffle into it, had asked him:
"Are you going from home to-day, uncle?"
"Yes, merch i, didn't I tell you? I am going to a meeting at Pen
Morien, and won't be back to-night."
"Are you going to walk?"
"Why, no! ride, of course. Where's Malen?"
"I think Shoni was just putting her into the cart."