"
"What is nice? getting wet?"
"O no," said Daisy. "Maybe I shall not get wet--you go so fast."
But at this moment there came a nearer growl of thunder, and the leaves
in the tops of the trees rustled as if a breath had passed over them.
Then were still.
"Can you mend your pace, Logan?" said the doctor.
"Ay, sir!"--came in the deep, cheery utterance of Logan's Scotch voice.
"Hold fast, Daisy"--said the doctor; and the two chair-bearers changed
their pace for a swinging trot. It was needful to hold on now indeed,
for this gait jolted the chair a good deal; but it got over the ground,
and Daisy found it excessively amusing. They passed the thick-standing
tree stems in quick succession now; the rocks uprising from the side of
the path were left behind one after another; they reached the sharp bend
in the road; and keeping up the swinging trot with a steadiness which
shewed good wind on the part of both the chair-bearers, at last the
little house where Sam had been left hove in view. Time it was; full
time. One and another sough of the wind had bowed the tree-tops with a
token of what was coming; one and another bright flash of lightning had
illumined the woody wilderness; and now just as the chair stopped, drops
began to fall which seemed as large as cherry-stones, mingled with hail
a good deal larger. Their patter sounded on the leaves a minute or two;
then ceased.
"That will do, Logan," said the doctor. "Bring the chair in under
shelter if you can; and come in yourself.
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