"Because he is idyl," said Bessie.
"Good, but not correct. Because he,—
'Chatters, chatters, as he goes,
Till all our nerves do quiver,—
For we may talk, or we may stop,
But Hugh puns on forever,
Ever,
Hugh puns on forever.'"
sang Rose, taking up the well-known air as she sprang over the rocks in advance of the rest.
"We shall have to make an impromptu wigwam under the shelter of those rocks and beech-trees," said Mr. Leslie, collecting the shawls and water-proof cloaks; "the foliage of the beech is very thick, and the rock will protect you from the west, in which direction the storm is coming. Mr. Marr, please throw down those shawls."
"What is the matter, Mr. Leslie?" said Sibyl, descending from her perch.
"A thunder-storm!" said Hugh, "and close upon us, too!"
"Surely, then, you are not thinking of remaining here under the trees," said Graham Marr, hastily putting on his water-proof coat.
"The ladies will be in more danger from the drenching rain, than from the lightning," replied Mr. Leslie, breaking down branches for his wigwam. "Here, Jonas! Jonas! have you a hatchet there?"
But Jonas did not answer, and Hugh, upon going up to the platform, discovered that he had started homeward with his cart, having first harnessed the four-in-hand. The horses were standing tied to the trees, but they looked uneasy, and one of the leaders pawed the ground restlessly. "I shall have to stay here with them," thought Hugh, "or they may break away when the storm strikes them." He ran back and called over the edge of the cliff. "Jonas has gone home, Mr. Leslie, and I shall be obliged to stay with the horses; but here is the hatchet."