tempest.

On a sudden this doomed man, who could no longer weep or smile, started
with a shudder. No physical pain could reach him, and yet he pressed his
hand hastily to his heart, as though he had experienced a cruel pang.
"Oh!" cried he; "I feel it. This hour, many of those whom I love--the
descendants of my dear sister--suffer, and are in great peril. Some in
the centre of India--some in America--some here in Germany. The struggle
recommences, the detestable passions are again awake. Oh, thou that
hearest me--thou, like myself wandering and accursed--Herodias! help me
to protect them! May my invocation reach thee, in those American
solitudes where thou now lingerest--and may we arrive in time!"

Thereon an extraordinary event happened. Night was come. The man made a
movement; precipitately, to retrace his steps--but an invisible force
prevented him, and carried him forward in the opposite direction.

At this moment, the storm burst forth in its murky majesty. One of those
whirlwinds, which tear up trees by the roots and shake the foundations of
the rocks, rushed over the hill rapid and loud as thunder.

In the midst of the roaring of the hurricane, by the glare of the fiery
flashes, the man with the black mark on his brow was seen descending the
hill, stalking with huge strides among the rocks, and between trees bent
beneath the efforts of the storm.

The tread of this man was no longer slow, firm, and steady--but painfully
irregular, like that of one impelled by an irresistible power, or carried
along by the whirl of a frightful wind. In vain he extended his
supplicating hands to heaven. Soon he disappeared in the shades of night,