CHAPTER IV.
THE STORM.
A day or two later on, the weather changed, the wind blew up in angry soughs from the south-west, and, meeting the strong flow of the spring tide, curled the green wave-tops into those small feathers of foam, always the fore-runners of rough weather.

The sea-gulls let themselves go before the wind calling to each other excitedly, the little sea-crows stayed quietly at home in the safe crannies of the cliff.
Old Dan Griffiths the fisherman hauled his boat further up the strand, and everything betokened the brewing of a storm, nevertheless Valmai was out early.

Her small household duties had been attended to.

She had skimmed the cream in the dairy, and fed the new calf; she had scattered the grain before the flocks of fowls and pigeons in the farm-yard; had brushed her uncle's coat, and, while helping him to shuffle into it, had asked him: "Are you going from home to-day, uncle ?" "Yes, merch i, didn't I tell you?
I am going to a meeting at Pen Morien, and won't be back to-night." "Are you going to walk ?" "Why, no! ride, of course.

Where's Malen ?" "I think Shoni was just putting her into the cart." "Oh! I forgot to tell him," said the absent-minded man.