XXXVII. The Storm—The Two Together

           

           Alightflappedoverthescene,asifreflectedfromphosphorescentwingscrossingthesky,andarumblefilledtheair.Itwasthefirstmoveoftheapproachingstorm.

           Thesecondpealwasnoisy,withcomparativelylittlevisiblelightning.GabrielsawacandleshininginBathsheba’sbedroom,andsoonashadowswepttoandfroupontheblind.

           Thentherecameathirdflash.Manœuvresofamostextraordinarykindweregoingoninthevastfirmamentalhollowsoverhead.Thelightningnowwasthecolourofsilver,andgleamedintheheavenslikeamailedarmy.Rumblesbecamerattles.Gabrielfromhiselevatedpositioncouldseeoverthelandscapeatleasthalf-a-dozenmilesinfront.Everyhedge,bush,andtreewasdistinctasinalineengraving.Inapaddockinthesamedirectionwasaherdofheifers,andtheformsofthesewerevisibleatthismomentintheactofgallopingaboutinthewildestandmaddestconfusion,flingingtheirheelsandtailshighintotheair,theirheadstoearth.Apoplarintheimmediateforegroundwaslikeaninkstrokeonburnishedtin.Thenthepicturevanished,leavingthedarknesssointensethatGabrielworkedentirelybyfeelingwithhishands.

           Hehadstuckhisricking-rod,orponiard,asitwasindifferentlycalledalongironlance,polishedbyhandlingintothestack,usedtosupportthesheavesinsteadofthesupportcalledagroomusedonhouses.Abluelightappearedinthezenith,andinsomeindescribablemannerflickereddownnearthetopoftherod.Itwasthefourthofthelargerflashes.Amomentlaterandtherewasasmacksmart,clear,andshort.

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