The boat drifted farther and farther. No one on shore knew that the
lovers were on the island. The evening darkened, the clouds lowered
themselves; night came. She stood there, solitary, despairing,
moaning. A flash of lightning passed over the Jura mountains, over
Switzerland and over Savoy. From all sides flash upon flash of
lightning, clap upon clap of thunder, which rolled continuously many
minutes. At times the lightning was vivid as sunshine, and you could
distinguish the grape vines; then all became black again in the dark
night. The lightning formed knots, ties, zigzags, complicated figures;
it struck in the lake, so that it lit it up on all sides; whilst the
noise of the thunder was made louder by the echo. The boat was drawn
on shore; all living objects sought shelter. Now the rain streamed
down.

"Where can Rudy and Babette be in this frightful weather!" said the
miller.

Babette sat with folded hands, with her head in her lap, mute with
sorrow, with screaming and bewailing.

"In the deep water," said she to herself, "he is as far down as the
glaciers!"

She remembered what Rudy had related to her of his mother's death, of
his preservation, and how he was withdrawn death-like, from the clefts
of the glacier. "The Ice-Maiden has him again!"

There was a flash of lightning, as dazzling as the sunlight on the
white snow. Babette started up; at this instant, the sea rose like a
glittering glacier; there stood the Ice-Maiden majestic, pale, blue,