he hall, where
they felt more secure than in any other place because they could retreat
far from the windows, and although they heard the thunder, they could
not see anything. A little boy was carried away sobbing in the arms of
his mother.

While the storm continued, no one seemed inclined to sit down, but they
collected in little groups under the central skylight, where they stood
in a yellow atmosphere, looking upwards. Now and again their faces
became white, as the lightning flashed, and finally a terrific crash
came, making the panes of the skylight lift at the joints.

"Ah!" several voices exclaimed at the same moment.

"Something struck," said a man's voice.

The rain rushed down. The rain seemed now to extinguish the lightning
and the thunder, and the hall became almost dark.

After a minute or two, when nothing was heard but the rattle of water
upon the glass, there was a perceptible slackening of the sound, and
then the atmosphere became lighter.

"It's over," said another voice.

At a touch, all the electric lights were turned on, and revealed a crowd
of people all standing, all looking with rather strained faces up at
the skylight, but when they saw each other in the artificial light
they turned at once and began to move away. For some minutes the rain
continued to rattle upon the skylight, and the thunder gave another
shake or two; but it was evident from the clearing of the darkness and
the light drumming of the rain upon the roof, that the great confused
ocean of air was travelling away from them, and passing high over head
with its clouds and its rods of fire, out to sea. The building, which
had seemed so small in the tumult of the storm, now became as square and
spacious as usual.

As the storm drew away, the people in the hall of the hotel sat down;
and with a comfortable sense of relief, began to tell each other stories
about great storms, and produced in many cases their occupations for
the evening. The chess-board was brought out, and Mr. Elliot, who wore a
stock instead of a collar as a sign of convalescence, but was otherwise
much as usual, challenged Mr. Pepper to a final contest. Round them
gathered a group of ladies with pieces of needlework, or in default of
needlework, with novels, to superintend the game, much as if they were
in charge of two small boys playing marbles. Every now and then they
looked at the board and made some encouraging remark to the gentlemen.

Mrs. Paley just