“‘As no more, Meg: we shall have a thunder-clap by-and-by. Look out on the Thames. See how unwontedlie clear it is, and how low the swallows fly. . . . . . . How distinctlie we see the green sedges on Battersea bank, and their reflected images in the water. We can almost discern the features of those poor knaves digging in the cabbage gardens, and hear ’em talk, so still is y^{e} air. Have you ne’er before noted these signs?’ “‘A storm is brewing,’ I sayd. “‘Aye, we shall have a lightening-flash anon. So still, Meg, is also our atmosphere just now. God is giving us a breathing space, as he did to the Egyptians before the plague of hail, that they might gather their live stock within doors. Let us take for example them that believed and obeyed him; and improve this holy pause.’ “Just at this moment, a few heavy drops fell agaynst the window pane, and were seen by both. Our eyes met; and I felt a silent pang. “‘Five days before the Passover,’ resumed father, ‘all seemed as still and quiet as we are now; but Jesus knew his hour was at hand. E’en while he yet spake familiarly among the people, there came a sound from heaven, and they that stood by said it thundered; but _he_ knew it for the voice of his dear Father. Let us, in like manner, when the clap cometh, recognize in it the voice of God, and not be afraid with any amazement.’” Again she visits him in the tower, by especial favor, after the blow has descended, and his fate, all but the doom, is fixed, and so, “ye who have tears prepare to shed them now.” “. . . I minded to put y^{e} haircloth and cord under my farthingale, and one or two of y^{e} smaller books in my pouch, as alsoe some sweets and suckets such as he was used to love. Will and Bonvisi were awaiting for me, and deare Bess, putting forthe her head from her chamber door, cries pitiously, ‘Tell him, dear Meg, tell him . . . ’twas never soe sad to me to be sick . . . and that I hope . . . I pray . . . the time may come . . .’ then falls back swooning into Dancey’s arms, whom I leave crying heartilie over her, and hasten below to receive the confused medley of messages sent by every other member of y^{e} house. For mine owne part, I was in such a tremulous succussion as to be scarce fitt to stand or goe, but time and the tide will noe man bide, and, once having taken boat, the cool river air allayed my fevered spiritts; onlie I coulde not for awhile get rid of y^{e} impression of poor Dancey crying over Bess in her deliquium.