It was half-past seven in the morning; the[Pg 340] sky was blue from line to line, but the monotony of the morning's brilliance of azure was relieved by a few little steam-white clouds which floated small violet island shadows under them. The horizon was a clear line, a sweep of crystal against the blue crystalline heaven it brimmed to.,
Billy grew thoughtful. "I hadn't thought o' that," he said slowly. "It's pine, too, ain't it? It 'ud carve fine.",
"Betcha, I would. Say Maurice," he broke out excitedly, "there's a light comin' through the trees. See it? It's movin'. Must be somebody with a lantern.".
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