Doubtful
of his course he stood for a moment looking about, conscious of a
curious change in the prospect, a deepening of its colors, a stillness
no longer dreamy, but heavy with suspense. The sky was sapphire clear,
but on the western horizon a rampart of cloud edged up, gray and
ominous, against the blue. As he looked it mounted, unrolled and
expanded, swelling into forms of monstrous aggression. A faint air,
fresh and damp, passed across the grass, and the clouds swept, like
smoke from a world on fire, over the sun.
With the sudden darkening, dread fell on the face of the land. It came
first in a hush, like a holding of the breath, attentive, listening,
expectant. Then this broke and a quiver, the goose-flesh thrill of
fear, stirred across the long ridges. The small, close growing leafage
cowered, a frightened trembling seized the trees. David saw the sweep
of the landscape growing black under the blackness above. He began to
run, the sky sinking lower like a lid shutting down on the earth. He
thought that it was hard to get it on right, for in front of him a line
of blue still shone over which the lid had not yet been pressed down.
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