swore it would not rain; he knew the signs of the weather, he said, but
as he applied the whip and galloped his horses at every available
opportunity, it was clear he had an inner consciousness of coming
trouble. The road now led through a forest. Here and there a gap in the
thick foliage gave us a glimpse of the distant landscape, and of the
curious atmospheric effects produced by the coming storm. The clouds
rolled up behind us in dense masses, throwing the near mountains into
deep shadow, while the plain far beneath was flooded with bright
sunshine.

The effect, however, was transitory, for the dark shadow soon engulfed
the distant plain, blurring the fair scene even while we looked upon it.
The change was something marvellous, so sudden and so complete. Up to
this time the air had been still, and very hot; but suddenly a fierce
wind came upon us with a hoarse roar--almost like the waves of the
sea--up the valley and over the hill-top it came, right down upon us,
tearing at the forest-trees. The branches, in all the full foliage of
leafy June, swayed to and fro as the wind went roaring and shrieking
down the hillside; the next moment the earth shook with the clap of a
terrific burst of thunder.

The horses stood still and shuddered in their harness, and it was with
difficulty they were made to go on. It was evident the storm was right
over us, for now succeeded flash upon flash of forked lightning, with
thunder-claps that were instantaneous and unceasing.

At the same time the windows of heaven were opened upon us, or rather
the sluices of heaven it seemed to me; for the rain descended in sheets,
not streams, of water. Without any adventitious difficulties, the road
was as objectionable as a road could be; deep ruts alternated with now a