Walking slowly borne, we felt the air to be full of oppressive languor, and turned now and then to see if the distant sail were yet lightened by the coming breeze.  When we reached the inner bay, we mounted a rock, from which, with the lessened interval between us, I could distinctly see the boat.  One of the occupants—­a lady—­wore a dark hat with a scarlet plume drooping from it.  She leaned over the gunwale, dipping her hands in the blazing water and holding them up against the light, as if playing rainbows in the sunset.  The other figure was busy in fastening up the sail, ready to catch the first breath of wind.

As we stood looking, the water, which during the last few minutes had changed from flaming red to the many-colored hues of a dolphin’s back, suddenly turned slate-colored, almost black.  Then a low scud crept stealthily and quickly along the surface, bringing with it a steady breeze, for perhaps five minutes.  We watched the little boat, as it yielded gracefully to the welcome impetus, and swept rapidly to the shore.  Fearing, however, from the sudden change of weather, that it would soon rain, we cast a parting look at the boat, and started on a rapid walk to the house.

This last glimpse of the boat showed us a tall figure standing upright against the mast, and fastening or holding something to it, while the lady still played with the water, bending her head so low that the red plume in her hat almost touched it.  She seemed in a pleasant reverie, and rocked softly with the rocking waves.  It was a peaceful picture,—­the sail set, and full of heaven’s breath, as it seemed.

Before we could grasp anything,—­even if there had been anything to grasp on the level sand,—­we were both taken at once off our feet and thrown violently to the ground.  I had felt the force of water before, but never that of wind, and had no idea of the utter helplessness of man or woman before a wind that is really in earnest.  It was with a very novel sense of more than childish incapacity that I suffered the Dominie to gather up capes, canes, hats, and shawls, and, last of all, an astonished woman, and put them on their way homewards.  However, long before we reached the house-door we were drenched to the skin.  The rain poured in blinding sheets, and the thunder was like a hundred cannon about our ears.  It was so sudden and so frightful to me that I had but one idea, that of getting into the piazza, where was comparative safety.  Having reached it, we turned to face the elements.  Nothing could be seen through the thick deluge.  The ocean itself, tossing and tumbling in angry darkness, seemed fighting with the other ocean that poured from the black wall above, and all was one tumult of thunderous fury.  This elemental war lasted but a short time, and gave place to a quiet as sudden as its angry burst.  It was my first experience of a squall.  It is always difficult for me to feel that a storm is a natural occurrence,—­so that I have a great reverence for a Dominie who stands with head uncovered, with calm eyes, looking tranquilly out on the loudest tempest.