ned the earth.

And still it increased.

Raft, taking the girl by the arm, drew her back into the cave; she was
trembling. It seemed to her that this was no storm, that something had
gone wrong with the scheme of things, that this Voice steadily being
keyed up was the voice of some string keeping everything together,
stretched to its utmost and sure to snap.

Then it snapped.

The whole of Kerguelen seemed to burst like a bomb-shell with a blaze of
light shewing islands and sea.

Then again it seemed to burst with a light struggling through a deluge.

The boom of the rain on the sea came between the thunder crashes whilst
a giant on the hills seemed to stand steadily working a flashlight, a
light so intense that now and again through broken walls of rain the
islands could be seen like far white ghosts wreathed in mist.

They sat down on the floor of the cave and the man put his arm about the
girl as if to protect her; then something came sniffing at them, it was
a little sea elephant that had got astray and scared by the work outside
had crept in for shelter and company. The girl rested her hand on it and
it lay still.

It seemed to her now that she could hear the gods of the storm as they
battled, hear their cries and breathing and trampling, whilst every
moment a thousand foot giant in full armour would come crashing to
earth, knee, shoulder and helmet hitting the rocks in succession.

"It's a big blow," came Raft's voice, "no call to be scared."

He was holding her to him like a child whilst she held to her the little
sea elephant, and so they remained, the three of them until the big
blow, failing to tear Kerguelen from its foundations, began to pause
like a spent madman.

The flashlight man on the hills began to work his apparatus more slowly
and now the thunder seemed doing its vast work away out at sea and all
sounds became gradually merged in the enormous, continuous sound of the
rain.

The little sea elephant seemed suddenly to take fright at the strange
company it found itself in and went tumbling and sniffing out to find
its mates, whilst through the night came the occasional "woof" of a bull
as if giving praise that the worst was over.

"The old sea cows know it's done," said Raft, "now you'd better get
under your blankets,--you aren't afraid to be alone?"

"I'm not afraid a bit now," said she. She patted his hand as a child
might and he crawled out and she heard him swearing at the rain as