Hurriedly, Julian slapped his face and arms with Mrs. Cheever's famous Anti-Pest Decoction and handed the bottle to Tom. The room was suddenly permeated with an extraordinary smell, and because of it the sound of little violins diminished and was gone.
There was another distant shuddering in the air.
"It is thunder, Jule," Tom said accusingly. "I told you it was."
"It may never get here, though. It's a long way away."
"It will get here," Tom pronounced gloomily. "Just wait and see."
Outside, the wind was picking up; the trees churned under it, and all the reeds of Gone-Away hissed and rustled as they bowed.
"Sh-h! What's that!" whispered Tom, clutching Julian's arm.
"Hey, quit grabbing me like that; it startles me. What's what?"
"Listen—"
Clap came the sound; then a sort of jiggle and squeak; then clap again.