"Regulus!" cried his mistress imperiously. "We can reach Rosemead before that storm breaks, can we not?"
Among other amiable qualities, Regulus numbered a happy willingness to please, even at the expense of truth.
"Sho-ly, 'lil Missy," he said with emphasis.
"And it will not be much of a squall, besides, will it, Regulus?"
"No, 'lil Missy, not much ob squall," answered the obliging Regulus.
"There is much wind in it," said Landless. "Look at those white clouds scudding across the black; and these squalls strike with suddenness and fury. I may put the boat about, madam?"
"Certainly not. Regulus, who must know the Chesapeake and its squalls much better than you possibly can, says there is no danger. I have no mind to be set ashore in these woods with night coming on and Indians or wolves prowling around."
"I beg that you will be advised by me, madam."
She looked at him as she had done that day in the master's room. "Is it that you are afraid of a Virginia squall? If so, you will have to conquer your tremor. Regulus, keep the boat as it is."
Landless went back to his seat in the bow, with tightened lips. The wind freshened, coming in hot little puffs, and the Bluebird slid more swiftly over the low hills. The water turned to a livid green and the air slowly darkened. Across the black pall, looming higher and higher, shot a jagged streak of fierce gold, followed by a low rumble of thunder. A mass of gray-white, fantastically piled clouds whirled lip from the eastern horizon to meet the vast blank sullen sheet overhead. There came a more vivid flash and a louder roll of thunder.