CHAPTER THREE.
A STORMY NIGHT.
It was a tremendous blast which came sweeping over the sea, and quite checked the progress of the travellers for the moment, but they pressed on, seeming to go right through the squall, and trudging along sturdily towards home.
"I begin to wish someone had put a light in the window for us, Dick," said the squire at the end of a few minutes' walking.

"It's getting terribly dark." Dick said, "Yes," and thought of the thread, but he made no allusion to it, only laughed to himself and tramped on.
"By the way, how uneasy that dog seemed!" said the squire as they trudged on with heads bent, for they were facing the blast now.
"Yes, father; we passed a fox." "Passed a fox! Why, you couldn't see a fox a dark night like this." "No, but I could smell him, father, and we heard him catch a duck." "Ah! I see.

And did the dog scent out the fox ?" "Yes, I think so, and that made him whine." "Come along, my lad.

Let's get on as fast as we can.

It's growing blacker, and I'm afraid we shall have some rain." No rain fell, but the sky was completely clouded over and the darkness seemed to grow more and more intense.