After lunch, Mr. Cozynse and Mr. De Leeuw left for the meeting at Kortgene. The little ones went to the barn to play.
A barn is a wonderful place on a rainy day. There are so many dark corners for hiding among the hay, in the stables, under the wagons. Today, with the wind howling around the corners and shaking the clapboards, it was more exciting than ever. In fact, it was a little too exciting for Mattie and Trena. They soon fled to Mother. But the boys played till it grew dark.
Art and Len helped Tunis, the hired man. When they had fed the cattle, they returned to the house. Mother had dinner on the table, but the men-folk were not yet home.
Mother folded her hands for prayer, and the children were quiet. Then the noise of the storm seemed worse. There was no sign of a let-up. The wind howled and screamed louder than ever.
“Dear Lord,” Mother prayed, “please protect the men who are on the sea in the storm. And protect us, too, from harm and danger. We know that we are safe in Thy care ... ”
When she had said “Amen,” Coba blinked away a few tears. She was glad that Mother had prayed thus, but she didn’t want the boys to notice her wet eyes.
After dinner, the little ones were put to bed. Coba settled in a corner with a book. Art and Len set out the checker game. Len was good at checkers, and usually won.
Coba could not keep her mind on the book. She kept hearing the storm. Finally, she put her book down and sat watching the boys. Len made several foolish moves. Was the storm bothering him, too?
But when the game ended, with Art the winner, Len suggested, “Let’s play again.”
They were in the midst of the second game when their fathers came home.
“Ready to go, Len?” Mr. Cozynse asked.
Len begged for time to finish the game, but Mr. Cozynse objected that it would take too long.
Then Len had a bright idea. “Can Art come home with us? We could finish the game at home!”
That seemed all right to Mr. Cozynse, and Art eagerly looked at Mother for her consent. It would be fun to spend a Sunday in town.
“The storm ... ” she said hesitantly. “It’s no weather to go out.”
“That won’t bother us in the car,” said Mr. Cozynse.
Coba wanted to say, “Suppose there should be a flood ... ” but she didn’t. After all, Mr. Cozynse had declared that the dikes could not break; they were strong.
Mother was nodding her consent. Father said, “We’ll see you Monday night. You’ll be coming home after school on Monday.”
“And I’ll see you Monday morning,” Coba said. But when Art turned to Mother, to give her a kiss as he always did when saying goodnight, he was surprised at the way she put her arms around him and held him tight as if he were going on a long trip. She kissed him a second time.
“Would you rather have me stay home, Mother?” he asked, wonderingly. “We’ll see each other Monday, you know.”
“God grant it, my boy,” Mother said, and she still held him.
Mr. Cozynse called from the doorway, “Ready, Art?”
Then Mother let him go. “If we should not meet again, Art,” she said, “then I want you to know that all is well with Mother.”
“But Mother, what do you mean?” Art exclaimed.
“Yes,” she said again, “all will be well. The Lord Jesus has made all things well for me.” She spoke with deep feeling.
Art threw his arms around her neck and clung to her. Now he found it hard to go.
She loosened his hold gently. “Go now, son. Go now. And I hope that we shall see one another again.”
Coba watched it all from her corner. Mother’s strange behavior wakened all her fears once more.
But Mother had calmed herself again. Coba saw her smile a tender, sweet smile, as she patted Art on the shoulder and said, “Run along now, son. Mr. Cozynse is waiting. And have a blessed Sunday!”
Mother and Father and Coba watched from the doorway as the auto rode away. The roar of the motor was immediately lost in the noise of the storm, but Coba watched the lights glide through the darkness. She saw the beams tilt upward as the car passed over the center dike, and then the lights disappeared.
“Come inside, child, and shut the door! It’s cold out there!” Mother called.
Coba obeyed, shivering. Soon afterward she went to bed.
Art slept in Len’s room, in a separate bed. The storm raged just as fiercely in Colynsplaat as at Pleasant Acres. And besides the roaring of the wind, there was the pounding of the waves, for Cozynse’s house was near the dike. Art could not sleep. He lay listening to the powerful blasts of wind, and at the same time thinking of his mother. What a strange parting that had been! It was as if she thought they would not see one another again. Was she afraid of the storm? She need not be. The house at Pleasant Acres was well built and sturdy. The wind surely would not damage it. And as for the sea — Mr. Cozynse himself had declared there was no danger of flood. He should know. It wasn’t surprising that Coba was frightened when she stood on the dike. Coba was a girl. But the polder administrator knew what he was talking about. And Mother — well, she had been upset for a moment, but when she sent him away she was her ordinary self again, cheerful and calm. She had wished him a blessed Sunday.
Art turned over and pulled the blankets up to his chin. The noise of wind and waves gradually dimmed, and he fell asleep.