THE VIVID ACCOUNT OF M. ALBERT

To the accounts given by the survivors of the Roraima and the officers
of the Etona, it will be well to add the following graphic story told by
M. Albert, a planter of the island, the owner of an estate situated only
a mile to the northeast of the burning crater of Mont Pelee. His escape
from death had in it something of the marvellous. He says:

"Mont Pelee had given warning of the destruction that was to come, but
we, who had looked upon the volcano as harmless, did not believe that
it would do more than spout fire and steam, as it had done on other
occasions. It was a little before eight o'clock on the morning of May
8 that the end came. I was in one of the fields of my estate when the
ground trembled under my feet, not as it does when the earth quakes, but
as though a terrible struggle was going on within the mountain. A terror
came upon me, but I could not explain my fear.

"As I stood still Mont Pelee seemed to shudder, and a moaning sound
issued from its crater. It was quite dark, the sun being obscured by
ashes and fine volcanic dust. The air was dead about me, so dead that
the floating dust seemingly was not disturbed. Then there was a rending,
crashing, grinding noise, which I can only describe as sounding as
though every bit of machinery in the world had suddenly broken down. It
was deafening, and the flash of light that accompanied it was blinding,
more so than any lightning I have ever seen.

"It was like a terrible hurricane, and where a fraction of a second
before there had been a perfect calm, I felt myself drawn into a vortex
and I had to brace myself firmly. It was like a great express train
rushing by, and I was drawn by its force. The mysterious force levelled
a row of strong trees, tearing them up by the roots and leaving bare a
space of ground fifteen yards wide and more than one hundred yards long.
Transfixed I stood, not knowing in what direction to flee. I looked
toward Mont Pelee, and above its apex there appeared a great black cloud
which reached high in the air. It literally fell upon the city of St.
Pierre. It moved with a rapidity that made it impossible for anything to
escape it. From the cloud came explosions that sounded as though all of
the navies of the world were in titanic combat. Lightning played in and
out in broad forks, the result being that intense darkness was followed
by light that seemed to be of magnifying power.

"That St. Pierre w