'Why, where on earth does your company sleep?'
'Nowhere on earth,' returned the soft-voiced Lifter.
'Come; we go under the earth;' and taking our hero's hand he led him to what looked like the mouth of a pit. A faint light beneath revealed a sort of step-ladder, and by this Roland, following his guide, descended into what seemed a cavern. The air was not foul, as one might suppose, but there was an earthy smell which at first was disagreeable enough to the nostrils of our hero. Taking a taper, which was left burning below, The Lifter led the way for a considerable distance, and then turning to the right entered a sort of aperture or pocket in the clayey wall to his right. The flickering of the light here revealed a small bed; and setting down the candle the Lifter said:
'This is to be your room while you stay with us; good night.' In spite of the sickening sensation that came over Roland as he entered this underground lair, and the feeling of pain and shame at the part he was compelled to act, he was soon asleep, and dreaming once again of days that held no evil.
CHAPTER VI.
THE WAYS OF ROBBER LIFE.
During the night a violent gale blew, rain fell in torrents, and many a proud tree received its death blow when lightning sprang from the low-brooding cloud.
But the face of nature was as bright next morning as a child's face after its own little tempest and its tears have passed, and joy takes possession once again. The sky seemed so clearly blue, that one might think, as I myself often when a child imagined, that in some unaccountable way the rain in falling had washed the sky, and hence it looked upon the morrow cleaner.
White clouds, like frail, wide tangles of thistle-down, drove across the sky and helped to form a vast congregation to leeward.
Overhead, and for a considerable way upon their journey, these clouds are white, but when they begin to form away beyond the reach of the wind, they immediately turn to a pearl grey. Sometimes you will notice a flush of rose, and often little patches of violet; and if to these hues be added no other save the semi-universal cumulus or neutral, you have little cause to fear that the tempest will renew itself. But beware of the purple and the sulky indigo. The purple sometimes clears up and dissolves itself in joyous crimson, or fair-weather pink. I have hardly ever known indigo to relent. When it rolls or steals into the heavens its purpose is tumult; and if you miss its fury be sure that someone else, some other where, will not.