“That’s right!” agreed Sunny. “A storm is coming up.”
Now Miss Gordon had noticed that the little house was swaying gently in the tree. She had observed too that the sky was darkening. However, she had not realized how fast the wind was rising.
At Sunny’s words, she went quickly out on the tiny balcony.
“A storm is blowing up,” she agreed. “We must leave at once. We’ll have to move fast if we reach the gate house before it breaks!”
Alarmed, the Brownies began to gather together their possessions.
Connie was packing the remains of lunch into her knapsack, when she felt the oak tree give a deep sigh.
Then the little house started to rock back and forth.
“The wind is here!” declared Miss Gordon. “Oh, dear! Now what?”
Several large drops of rain had pinged on the roof of the house.
Before the girls could start down the stairway, the droplets came faster and faster.
“We’ll be soaked if we try to reach the gate house now!” squealed Rosemary.
Peering out of the tiny window, she saw only a world of crashing leaves and tree boughs.
So fast was the rain falling that the ground below was invisible.
“Oh, Miss Gordon, what will we do?” asked Eileen anxiously. She was very frightened.
The leader was worried, but tried not to show it.
“Now don’t be alarmed,” she comforted the Brownies. “This house is sturdily built and will withstand a strong wind.”
“Shall we make a dash for it?” asked Connie, shivering.
The air had turned so cold she dreaded the thought of having her clothing soaked.
“For the time being, we’ll stay right here,” Miss Gordon decided after a moment’s hesitation.
“What if the tree should be struck by lightning?” demanded Jane, who always speculated on the very worst possibilities.
“So far there is no lightning,” Miss Gordon replied calmly. “Unless the wind continues to rise, we’ll be as safe here as if we were dashing through the woods.”
“And a lot warmer,” declared Connie, settling down on the window seat. “I think it will be fun staying in a tree house during a storm!”
The other Brownies huddled together and kept their thoughts to themselves. Connie, they knew, was only putting up a brave front.
Already the tree house was rocking back and forth as if it were a boat on a choppy sea.
Below, the stairway appeared wet and slippery. If the Brownies finally decided to make a dash for the gate house, the footing at best would be very treacherous.