had somewhat lulled, there rose a prolonged wail, or rather shriek,
as of many human voices rising slowly in one passionate appeal to the
mercy of Heaven, and dying away in sobbing, shuddering despair as the
wild blast broke out again with the mocking laughter of all the
fiends in the pit--a cry without similitude on earth, yet surely and
awfully human; a cry that rings in my ears even now, and will
continue to ring until I die.

I sprang from bed, forced the window open and looked out. The wind
flung a drenching shower of spray over my face and thin night-dress,
then tore past up the hill. I looked and listened, but nothing could
be seen or heard; no blue light, nor indeed any light at all; no cry,
nor gun, nor signal of distress--nothing but the howling of the wind
as it swept up from the sea, the thundering of the surf upon the
beach below; and all around, black darkness and impenetrable night.
The blast caught the lattice from my hand as I closed the window, and
banged it furiously. I turned to look at my mother. She had fallen
forward on her knees, with her arms flung across the bed, speechless
and motionless, in such sort that I speedily grew possessed with an
awful fear lest she should be dead. As it was, I could do nothing
but call her name and try to raise the dear head that hung so heavily
down. Remember that I was at this time not eight years old, and had
never before seen a fainting fit, so that if a sight so like to death
bewildered me it was but natural. How long the fit lasted I cannot
say, but at last, to my great joy, my mother raised her head and
looked at me with a puzzled stare that gradually froze again to
horror as recollection came back.

"Oh, Jasper, what could it be?--what could it be?"