Then he began to lead them, as
nearly as he could, the way he had then gone, but with some, for
Arctura's sake, desirable detours: over one steep-sloping roof they
had to cross, he found a little stair up the middle, and down the
other side.
They came to a part where he was not quite sure about the way. As he
stopped to bethink himself, they turned and looked eastward. The sea
was shining in the sun, and the flat wet country between was so
bright that they could not tell where the land ended and the sea
began. But as they gazed a great cloud came over the sun, the sea
turned cold and gray as death--a true March sea, and the land lay
low and desolate between. The spring was gone and the winter was
there. A gust of wind, full of keen hail, drove sharp in their
faces.
"Ah, that settles the question!" said Donal. "The music-bird must
wait. We will call upon her another day.--It is funny, isn't it,
Davie, to go a bird's-nesting after music on the roof of a house?"
"Hark!" said Arctura; "I think I heard the music-bird!--She wants us
to find her nest! I really don't think we ought to go back for a
little blast of wind, and a few pellets of hail! What do you think,
Davie?"
"Oh, for me, I wouldn't turn for ever so big a storm!" said Davie;
"but you know, Arkie, it's not you or me, Arkie! Mr. Grant is the
captain of this expedition, and we must do as he bids us.
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