The advancing wall of rain struck the building with terrific force. The
lightning broke forth, savage as the roar of siege-guns. The noise of
the wind and thunder was deafening. The plain grew black as night, save
when the lightning flamed in countless streams across the clouds. The
cabin shook like a frightened hound. Bailey looked around.
"We must move the goods!" he shouted above the tumult. "See, the rain is
beating in!"
Rivers, with Blanche encircled by his arm, pressed her to his side
reassuringly. "Don't be afraid. It can't blow down," he repeated.
He then leaped to Bailey's assistance, and, while the thunder crashed in
their ears and the lightning blinded their eyes, they worked like
frantic insects to move the goods away from the western wall, through
which the rain was beating. There was a pleasure in this assault which
the woman could not share. It was battle, absorbing and exalting. Their
shouts were full of joyous excitement.
Once, when the structure trembled and groaned with the shock of a
frightful blast, Rivers again put his arm around Blanche, saying: "It
can't blow over.
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