instrument was removed. It was better not to watch it, but to hope for
a surprise. The grass became brown, and in many places was killed down
to the roots; there was no hay; myriads of swarming caterpillars
devoured the fruit trees; the brooks were all dry; water for cattle had
to be fetched from ponds and springs miles away; the roads were broken
up; the air was loaded with grit; and the beautiful green of the hedges
was choked with dust. Birds like the rook, which fed upon worms, were
nearly starved, and were driven far and wide for strange food. It was
pitiable to see them trying to pick the soil of the meadow as hard as a
rock. The everlasting glare was worse than the gloom of winter, and the
sense of universal parching thirst became so distressing that the house
was preferred to the fields. We were close to a water famine! The
Atlantic, the source of all life, was asleep, and what if it should
never wake! We know not its ways, it mocks all our science. Close to
us lies this great mystery, incomprehensible, and yet our very breath
depends upon it. Why should not the sweet tides of soft moist air cease
to stream in upon us? No reason could be given why every green herb and
living thing should not perish; no reason, save a faith which was blind.
For aught we KNEW, the ocean-begotten aerial current might forsake the
land and it might become a desert.

One night grey bars appeared in the western sky, but they had too often
deluded us, and we did not believe in them. On this particular evening
they were a little heavier, and the window-cords were damp. The air
which came across the cliff was cool, and if we had dared to hope we
should have said it had a scent of the sea in it. At four o'clock in
the morning there was a noise of something beating against the panes--
they were streaming! It was impossible to lie still, and I rose and
went out of doors. No creature was stirring, there was no sound save
that of the rain, but a busier time there had not been for many a long