The wind was increasing and lightning flashes were crackling over the saw-grass sea. If he started out and lost his sense of direction he’d really be in trouble. Yet if he stayed he doubted he’d be able to get away until very late. It did not look like the kind of storm that would be over in a few minutes.

His decision to remain was made just as another flash of lightning came from the cloud cover almost directly overhead. It was dead white, and Alec had no time to involuntarily duck his head or even collect his wits as a thunderbolt crashed, seemingly a few feet to his right. It roared in his ears as he and the captain made a mad dash for the shed doors.

A second blaze of lightning brightened the area when the captain pulled open the doors. “Vite, Alec, quickly, inside!” he shouted. They stepped inside and closed the doors behind them.

The Black nickered and Alec went to him quickly. Storms affected the Black just as they affected him; each offered the other solace at such times. Whenever possible, Alec was with him during a bad storm. His hand rubbed the muscled ridge of the Black’s neck.

There was another crash of thunder, and the light coming through the open window was eerie. Frequent flashes brightened the sky and Alec could see huge thunderheads marching up from the south.

“Rain should come soon now,” he said. “It might not be so bad then.”

The captain did not take his eyes from the window. “I smell no rain, only the electricity in the air,” he answered.

A spurt of violet fire brightened the shed and they saw a tall cabbage palm split in two and fall to the ground. There was another flash and still another. The earth and sky were being joined in flaming white charges while thunder crashed incessantly.

Alec’s fingers tightened on the Black’s mane. He could not tell his horse there was nothing to fear, that it was not like the first time. Actually it was worse, except that they were not in a ship at sea.

One did not forget a ship rolling helplessly in monstrous seas and raging winds while jarring cracks of lightning split her open. A dead ship, her engines long quiet, going deeper into the water.

“I have never known the fear of a storm,” the captain said quietly, as if intent on distracting Alec’s thoughts. “We circus people are used to all kinds of dangers, traveling and living in so many strange countries as we do. One must go where one can earn a living.”

Alec turned to him. He knew the captain’s words were meant to be warm and friendly, to get his mind off the storm. His fear must be quite apparent, then.

“Your mare must be a good traveler,” he said, willing to talk about anything that would pass the time.

“Oui, she has had to be,” the captain answered, “as it is with all circus animals. However, she is better than most, I believe. She is a seasoned traveler, very worldly indeed.”

The Black moved uneasily as a loud rumble of thunder shook the shed. Alec steadied him with his hands. The thunderheads seemed to be closer, pressing down upon the hammock. Still there was no rain—only the wind and lightning and thunder.

“Perhaps you don’t fear it because you have never known what a tropical storm is like,” Alec commented.

“Perhaps so, Alec,” the captain answered. “It is not often that we travel so far south. Usually we are in Europe at this time of year.