"It isn't night yet, I know!" And he hastily took out Theodora's watch, which she had intrusted to him to carry that day, so that we should know when to start for home.

"It's only half past three, and the sun doesn't set now till after seven o'clock." We hammered at the ledge again for a while; but still it grew darker.
"Well, this beats me!" Addison exclaimed; and again he surveyed the sky.
"That watch hasn't stopped, has it ?" I said; for night was plainly falling.
Addison hastily looked again.
"No, it's ticking all right," he said.

"Theodora's watch never stops, you know." It was a fine watch that her father had left to her.
By that time it was so dark that we could hardly see the hands on the watch; and although the day had been warm, I noticed a distinct change in the temperature--a chill.

Somewhere in the woods an owl began to hoot dismally, as owls do at night; and from a ledge a little distance from the one on which we stood a whippoorwill began to chant.
Night was evidently descending on the earth--at four o'clock of an August afternoon! We stared round and then looked at each other, bewildered.
"Addison, what do you make of this!" I cried.
Thoughts of that rainbow in the morning had flashed through my mind; and with it came a cold touch of superstitious fear, such as I had never felt in my life before.

In that moment I realized what the fears of the ignorant must have been through all the past ages of the world.