"I don't like that," said Diamond.

He was staring after the boat. Hearing no answer, he looked down
to the wall.

North Wind was gone. Away across the river went a long ripple--
what sailors call a cat's paw. The man in the boat was putting up
a sail. The moon was coming to herself on the edge of a great cloud,
and the sail began to shine white. Diamond rubbed his eyes,
and wondered what it was all about. Things seemed going on around him,
and all to understand each other, but he could make nothing of it.
So he put his hands in his pockets, and went in to have his tea.
The night was very hot, for the wind had fallen again.

"You don't seem very well to-night, Diamond," said his mother.

"I am quite well, mother," returned Diamond, who was only puzzled.

"I think you had better go to bed," she added.

"Very well, mother," he answered.

He stopped for one moment to look out of the window. Above the
moon the clouds were going different ways. Somehow or other this
troubled him, but, notwithstanding, he was soon fast asleep.

He woke in the middle of the night and the darkness. A terrible
noise was rumbling overhead, like the rolling beat of great drums
echoing through a brazen vault. The roof of the loft in which he
lay had no ceiling; only the tiles were between him and the sky.