Now, the gathering storm made it as dark as twilight.

The box stall to which Lad was led was almost pitch black; its shuttered window being closed.

Still, it was shelter.
Leaving the Master and the Mistress to consign Lad to his new quarters, the boy scuttled of to a harness-room.

There, an eagerly-questioning man was awaiting him.
"Yep," broke in the boy, through a volley of inquiries.

"I done it, all right, all right, Mr.Higham.