“It’s nature, I suppose,” said Dick.
“It’s ill-nature, Dicky.”
“Horribly tiresome,” yawned Dick. “I’d shut the window, only the place would be so unbearably hot.”
“Never mind; shut it, and open the bedroom doors. Anything’s better than having the light put out.”
Dick rose slowly and did as he was told before taking off the lump globe and chimney to clear the lamp-wick, and then replacing them and returning to his seat.
As the lamp was turned down for retrimming, the faint flickering of lightning could be seen, and a distant muttering sound broke the silence.
“Storm coming,” said Dick.
“Let it come,” said Wyatt; “make it cooler, and be a bit of a change.”
“It must be tremendous up in the mountains.”
“Let it be tremendous up in the mountains, Dicky. There’s plenty of room for it to rumble round there, and if it splinters a few crags it will do no harm.”