"I don't know," she answered. But she said it with such a quiet tone of voice, that the Captain wondered anew. He had hoped that her fears might induce her to bear the pain.
"Daisy, do you think it will come up a storm?"
"I think it will."
"How soon? you know the signs better than I do. How soon will it be here?"
"It will come soon, I think."
Yet there was no anxiety in Daisy's voice. It was perfectly calm, though feeble. The Captain held his peace, looked at the clouds, and drove on; but not as fast as he would have liked. He knew it was a ride of great suffering to his little charge, for she became exceedingly pale; still she said nothing, except her soft replies to his questions. The western clouds rolled up in great volumes of black and grey, rolling and gathering and spreading at a magnificent rate. The sun was presently hid behind the fringe of this curtain of blackness; by and by the mountains were hid beneath a further fringe of rain; a very thick fringe. Between, the masses of vapour in the sky seemed charging for a tremendous outburst. It had not come yet when the slow going little wagon passed through Crum Elbow; but by this time the Captain had seen distant darts of lightning, and even heard the far-off warning growl of the thunder. A new idea started up in the Captain's mind; his frisky horse might not like lightning.
"Daisy," said he, "my poor little Daisy—we cannot get to Melbourne—we must stop and wait a little somewhere. Is there any house you like better than another? I had best turn back to the village."
"No, don't,—stop!" cried Daisy, "don't go back, Capt. Drummond; there is a place nearer. Turn up that road—right round there. It is very near."
The Captain obeyed, but pulled in the reins presently as he heard a nearer growl of the coming thunder. "Daisy, where is it? I don't see anything."
"There it is, Capt. Drummond—that little house."