"No sign of the Curlew yet," she sighed, as she stood at the parlor window gazing out upon the wind-tossed billows, plunging, leaping, roaring, foaming as if in furious passion.
"No; and we may well thank God that we do not," said Donald's voice close at her side, "for the wind is just in the quarter to drive them ashore: I hope they are giving the land a wide berth."
She looked up into his face with frightened eyes.
"Do not be alarmed," he said; "let us not anticipate evil. They may be safe in port somewhere; and at all events we know who rules the winds and waves."
"Yes," she murmured, in low tremulous tones, "the stormy wind fulfils His word: and no real evil shall befall any of His children."
There was a moment of silence; then, "It is about breakfast time now," he said, "but you will not venture out in this gale, surely? Shall I not have your meal sent in to you?"
"Thank you, but I prefer to make the effort to go," she said; "I want to get a nearer view of the sea."
The others felt the same desire, and presently they all started out together.
The ladies found it as much as they could do to keep their feet even with the assistance of their stronger companions, and the great, wind-driven waves sometimes swept across the sidewalk.
It was clearly dangerous, if not impossible, to approach nearer to the surging waters. The gale was increasing every moment, the sky had grown black with clouds and distant mutterings of thunder, and an occasional lightning flash gave warning that the worst was yet to come. Evidently it would be no day for outdoor exercise or amusement.