"Oh, I'm such a coward!" sobbed Sophy. "Ah, there it comes again--the lightning will blind me!"--and she shrieked and threw her apron over her head, as another terrific peal burst solemnly above them. "I would rather see twenty ghosts than hear the like of that again. Did not you feel the earth shake?" "Now for the rain!" cried the little tailor, as a few heavy drops first splashed upon the door-sill, then there was the rush and roar of a hurricane, and the water burst from the skies in torrents, streaming over the door-sill and beating through the chinks in the ill-glazed windows. "Shut the door, man! can't you?" vociferated Tom Weston to the tailor. "The rain pours in like a flood, and it will give the young lady cold." "Poor, delicate creature," said Martha; "as if a few drops of rain could hurt the like o' her!" As the tailor rose to shut the door, two men bearing a heavy burthen between them, filled up the before vacant space. All eyes were turned upon the strangers, as, through the howling wind and rushing rain, they bore into the room, and placed upon the back floor, a man struggling in a fit of epilepsy. "Well, measter, how is it with 'un?" said the foremost, who was a stout rosy fellow from the labouring class. No answer was returned to the inquiry made in a kindly tone. The person thus addressed still continued writhing in convulsions, and perfectly unconscious of his own identity or of that of any person around him. "Put a tablespoonful of salt into his mouth, man," said Corbett the carpenter, "that will bring him to if anything will." The simple, but powerful remedy was promptly administered by Mary, and after some minutes the paroxysms of the disorder grew less violent, and the sick man, with a heavy groan, unclosed his large dark eyes, and gazed vacantly around him,--his teeth still chattering, and his muscular limbs trembling like one in an ague fit. "Courage, measter," said the labourer, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. "There's nought that can hurt thee here. See, the fire burns cheerfully, and 'tis human creturs an' friends that are about thee." "Is it gone?" groaned the prostrate form, closing his eyes as if to shut out some frightful apparition,--"gone for ever?" "Ay, vanished clean away into the black night." "What did he see?" cried a chorus of eager voices; and every one in the room crowded round the fallen man. "He seed old Mason's ghost on the bridge," said the labourer, "an' I seed it too. An ugsome looking cretur it wor, an' I wor mortal skeared, howdsomever, when measter screeched an' fell, I forgot to look on 'un agin--I wor so skeared about 'un. This good man com'd along, as luck wud ha' it, and helped me to carry 'un in here. For my part, I thought as how Measter Noah was dead; an' as he owed me four pounds and three shillings for my harvestin' with 'un, an' I had no writin' to show for it, I thought it wud be a bad job for me an' the fam'ly."