--this fierce battle between the elements? Alas, no; they are both
tyrants, and what is to be expected?

The wind god, always unsteady, wheels round, comes to the assistance of
his opponent, and gives him new courage, new vigor, and new strength.
But his inferior ministers must have a share of this dreadful repast.
Off go a thousand masses of burning material, whirling along. Off go
the; glowing timbers and rafters, on the wind, by which they are borne
in thousands of red meteors across the sky. But hark, again! Room for
the whirlwind! Here it comes, and addresses itself to yon tall and
waving pyramid; they embrace; the pyramid is twisted into the figure of
a gigantic corkscrew--round they go, rapid as thought; the thunder of
the wind supplies them with the appropriate music, and continues until;
this terrible and gigantic waltz of the elements is concluded. But now
these fearful ravagers are satisfied, because they have nothing more on
which they can glut themselves. They appear, however, to be seated. The
wind has become low, and is only able to work up a feeble effort at its
former strength. The flames, too, are subsiding--their power is gone;
occasional jets of fire I come forth, but they instantly disappear. By
degrees, and one after another, they vanish. Nothing now is visible
but smoke, and every thing is considered as over--when lo! like a great
general, who has achieved a triumphant victory, it is deemed right to;
take a last look at the position of the enemy. Up, therefore, starts
an unexpected burst of flame--blazes for a while; looks about it, as
it were; sees that the victory is complete, and drops down into the
darkness from which it came. The conflagration is over; the wind-storm
is also appeased. Small hollow gusts, amongst the trees and elsewhere,
are now all that are heard. By degrees, even these cease; and the wind
is now such as it was in the course of the evening, when the elements
were comparatively quiet and still.

Mr. Brown and his friend, Mr. Hastings, having waited until they saw the
last rafter of unfortunate Reilly's house and premises sink into a black
mass of smoking ruins, turned their steps to the parsonage, which they
had no sooner entered than they went immediately to Reilly's room, who
was still there under concealment. Mr. Brown, however, went out again
and returned with some wine, which he placed upon the table.

"Gentlemen," said Reilly, "this has become an awful night; the wind h