At last there came a flash that startled them all. The mountains leaped
out of the darkness like great sheeted spectres, and though seen but a
second, they made so strong an impression that they seemed to have left
their solid bases and to be approaching in the gloom. Then came a
magnificent peal that swept across the whole southern arch of the sky.
The reverberations among the hills were deep, long, and grand, and the
fainter echoes had not died away before there was another flash--another
thunderous report, which, though less loud than the one that preceded it,
maintained the symphony with scarcely diminished grandeur.
"This is our Highland music, Amy," Webb remarked, as soon as he could be
heard. "It has begun early this season, but you will hear much of it
before the year is out."
"It is rather too sublime for my taste," replied the young girl,
shrinking closer to Mr. Clifford's side.
"You are safe, my child," said the old man, encircling her with his arm.
"Let me also reassure you in my prosaic way," Webb continued. "There, do
you not observe that though this last flash seemed scarcely less vivid,
the report followed more tardily, indicating that the storm centre is
already well to the south and east of us? The next explosion will take
place over the mountains beyond the river. You may now watch the scene in
security, for the heavenly artillery is pointed away from you."
"Thank you.
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