anguish of a million tortured souls were borne down the blast.

"Mother, I hear nothing but the storm."

"Nothing but the storm! Oh, Jasper, are you sure you hear nothing
but the storm?"

"Nothing else, mother, though that is bad enough."

She seemed relieved a little, but still trembled sadly, and caught
her breath with every fresh roar. The tempest had gathered fury, and
was now raging as though Judgment Day were come, and earth about to
be blotted out. For some minutes we listened almost motionless, but
heard nothing save the furious elements; and, indeed, it was hard to
believe that any sound on earth could be audible above such a din.
At last I turned to my mother and said--

"Mother dear, it is nothing but the storm. You were thinking of
father, and that made you nervous. Go back to bed--it is so cold
here--and try to go to sleep. What was it you thought you heard?"

"Dear Jasper, you are a good boy, and I suppose you are right, for
you can hear nothing, and I can hear nothing now. But, oh, Jasper!
it was so terrible, and I seemed to hear it so plainly; though I
daresay it was only my--Oh, God! there it is again! listen! listen!"

This time I heard--heard clearly and unmistakably, and, hearing, felt
the blood in my veins turn to very ice.

Shrill and distinct above the roar of the storm, which at the moment