misty blue. The sight startled me so that I dropped the ring, and
when I picked it up the eye was gone from it. The same moment the
sun was obscured; a dark vapour covered him, and in a minute or two
the whole sky was clouded. The air had grown sultry, and a gust
of wind came suddenly. A moment more and there was a flash of
lightning, with a single sharp thunder-clap. Then the rain fell
in torrents.

I had opened the window, and stood there looking out at the
precipitous rain, when I descried a raven walking toward me over
the grass, with solemn gait, and utter disregard of the falling
deluge. Suspecting who he was, I congratulated myself that I was
safe on the ground-floor. At the same time I had a conviction that,
if I were not careful, something would happen.

He came nearer and nearer, made a profound bow, and with a sudden
winged leap stood on the window-sill. Then he stepped over the
ledge, jumped down into the room, and walked to the door. I thought
he was on his way to the library, and followed him, determined, if
he went up the stair, not to take one step after him. He turned,
however, neither toward the library nor the stair, but to a little
door that gave upon a grass-patch in a nook between two portions
of the rambling old house. I made haste to open it for him. He
stepped out into its creeper-covered porch, and stood looking at
the rain, which fell like a huge thin cataract; I stood in the door
behind him. The second flash came, and was followed by a lengthened
roll of more distant thunder. He turned his head over his shoulder
and looked at me, as much as to say, "You hear that?" then swivelled
it round again, and anew contemplated the weather, apparently with
approbation. So human were his pose and carriage and the way he