im a rough shake, but directly after felt in the darkness
for the rope, and rapidly untied it.

"Speak, my boy, if you can," cried Uncle Richard then. "You are not
hurt?"

"No; I'm going to be all right now, I think," said Tom hoarsely. Then
in quite a fierce way he grasped at his uncle's arm. "Why didn't you
lower me down?" he cried.

"I couldn't, boy. It was all in the dark, and the rope kept getting
wedged by the broken wood. I was afraid to use violence for fear of
breaking it, or ravelling it through. Let me help you back into the
house. You've saved the roof of the mill."

"Think so?" said Tom huskily.

"Yes, more, Tom--sure," cried his uncle, jerking the rope into a corner,
and re-opening the door.

"Think the light's quite out?"

"Yes, certain," cried Uncle Richard; and banging to and locking the
door, he caught hold of Tom's arm.

"I'm all right now," said the boy; and they hurried back into the house,
securing gates as they went, to find Mrs Fidler looking whiter than
ever; and quite tearful as she exclaimed--

"Oh dear! I was afraid something dreadful had happened. Do pray sit
down and have a cup of tea, sir."

They did, and with the storm increasing in violence, Tom went up once
more to his room, to lie down in his clothes, and listen to the raging
wind, and the sounds which told from time to time of destruction to
tile, chimney-pot, or tree.

At least he meant to do this, but in ten minutes or so the sound of the
wind had lulled him to sleep, and he did not open his eyes again till
morning, to find the storm dropped and the sun shining brightly.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

"Them four lights from the cowcumber frames, Master Tom, lifted off,
carried eight-and-forty foot, dashed down and smashed, so as there arn't
a single whole pane o' glass left."

"That's a bad job, David," said Tom, as he stood looking about him at
the ruin caused by the hurricane; "but the telescope is all right."

"Yer can't grow cowcumbers with tallow-scoops, Master Tom. The first
thing I see as soon as I goes into the little vinery there was two big
slates off the top o' the house, blowed off like leaves, to go right
through the glass, and there they was sticking up edgeways in the vine
border."

"Well, only a job for the glazier," said Tom.

"Strikes me there won't be glass enough left in the village to do all
the mending. Mrs Bray's front window was blowed right in, and all the
sucker and lollypop gl