Great, velvety, purple clouds heaped up in the west and spread
over the valley. There was no wind and everything was suddenly,
strangely, dreadfully still. The marsh was full of thousands of
fire-flies. Surely some fairy parliament was being convened that
night. Altogether, Rainbow Valley was not a canny place just
then.

Faith looked fearfully up the valley to the old Bailey garden.
Then, if anybody's blood ever did freeze, Faith Meredith's
certainly froze at that moment. The eyes of Carl and Una
followed her entranced gaze and chills began gallopading up and
down their spines also. For there, under the big tamarack tree
on the tumble-down, grass-grown dyke of the Bailey garden, was
something white--shapelessly white in the gathering gloom. The
three Merediths sat and gazed as if turned to stone.

"It's--it's the--calf," whispered Una at last.

"It's--too--big--for the calf," whispered Faith. Her mouth and
lips were so dry she could hardly articulate the words.

Suddenly Carl gasped,

"It's coming here."

The girls gave one last agonized glance. Yes, it was creeping
down over the dyke, as no calf ever did or could creep. Reason
fled before sudden, over-mastering panic. For the moment every
one of the trio was firmly convinced that what they saw was Henry