very line of
its path."

"I do like to watch the gathering of a storm, Pilkington," replied
Mortimer. "Surely the outpouring vials of its wrath must be
terrifically sublime in these regions. I would not miss so glorious a
sight for the world."

"In a snug shelter maybe at our hostelrie below, with a mug of the
right barley-bree buzzing at our elbow--oat-cake and cheese
conformable thereto."

"Nay, here; with the sky opening above our heads, and the broad earth
reeking and weltering under the wide grasp of the tempest. See! how
the crooked lightning darts between the coiled clouds, like a swift
messenger from yon dark treasure-house of wrath!"

This was said by a third individual, named Norton, a young man who
lived in the neighbourhood; a friend and former school-fellow of the
preceding speakers--only one of whom, Mortimer, resided in a distant
county, and was on a visit with Norton for the first time.

"Like a train of gunpowder, perhaps, thou meanest, Norton?" said the
less enthusiastic Pilkington, whose residence, too, was but a few
miles distant; "and, furthermore, I warn ye all, that unless we can
house, and that right speedily, we shall have the storm about our
heads, and maybe lose our way if the mist comes on, or get soused over
head and ears in some bog-trap. We'll climb yonder hill, Norton,
whence we may survey the broil and commotion from our 'watch-tower in
the skies,' under a tidy roof and a dry skin. Thou mayest tarry here
an thou wilt, and offer thyself a sacrifice on these altars of Jupiter
Pluvius."

The whole party--dogs, helps, and servants--were soon sheltered in the
little square tower upon the summit, and the predictions of the elder
and more experienced of them were soon verified. Almost on the
entrance of the last of the group came down the deluge in one broad
sheet, an "even-down pour," so loud and terrible, accompanied by a
burst of hail, that they were threatened with an immediate invasion of
their citadel through several crevices in both roof and windows.

A peal of thunder, loud, long, and appalling, shook their shelter to
its base. The very foundations of the hill seemed to rock with the
concussion. Their lofty tabernacle hung suspended in the very bosom of
the clouds, big with their forky terrors. The lightning began to hiss
and quiver, and the sky to open its wide jaws above them, as though to
devour its prey. The roar and rattle of the wind and hail, mingled
with the crash and