Meanwhile the new load swelled and loomed up prodigiously.
"When I give the word, James," cried Mr. Royden, "drive to the stack as straight as you can go. It must be topped off somehow, before it gets wet."
The clouds roared and wheeled in the sky. The lightnings were vivid and frequent. The sultry air grew rapidly cool, and there was a gale rising. A deep gloom had settled upon all the earth, coloring the scene of hurried labor with a tinge of awfulness, as if some dread event were impending.
A few heavy drops came hissing down upon the hay.
"Drive to the stack, James!" cried the farmer. "Go with what you have got."
"Take the rest of this win'row," said Mark; "hadn't we better? I can heave it up in a minute."
"Be quick, then; for we must secure the stack."
"If the shower will hold off ten minutes, I do believe the boys will have the rest of the hay safe in the cock," observed Father Brighthopes. "How they work!"
The shower did hold off wonderfully. Mark and Mr. Royden threw on the remainder of the windrow, making a large, unshapely load.
With a feeling of triumph, the farmer saw the horses start at a quick pace for the stack.