Wild whispers of wind curled along the dark Firth as the evening fell. All the day, the earth had been lying in that dread, bewildered pause which comes before a thunder storm. Now, as Anne sat looking out into the darkness, the tempest began; the night was very dark--the whole breadth of the sky was covered by one ponderous thunder-cloud, through which there suddenly shot a sheet of ghastly light. Anne was still at the window--she started back, but not before the scene revealed by that flash, had fixed itself in its terrific gloom and unearthly colors upon her memory. The dismal outline of the house of Schole--the sea beyond, plunging and heaving in black wrath--and on its troubled and gloomy bosom, a drifting, helpless ship, the broken masts and rigging of which seemed for the moment flaming with wild, phosphoric light. Anne shrank from the window; but in a moment returned in intense anxiety, too thoroughly aroused and absorbed to think of fear. Another flash, and yet another--and still the helpless, dismantled ship was drifting on; she fancied she could see dark figures, specks in the distance, clinging to the yards; she fancied she could discern the black waves weltering over the buried hull, as the light fell full upon the vessel--there was a blind incompetency in its motions which showed that its crew had lost command of it.--She saw the falling of some spar--she fancied she could hear a terrible shrill cry; she threw open her window. The thunder was pealing its awful trumpet-note into the dense darkness:--gazing eagerly through the gloom she waited for another flash. "For guid sake come in--for pity's sake come in," cried Miss Crankie, pulling her from behind. The sisters, their maid, and Jacky had crowded together into Anne's room in the gregarious instinct of fear. Bursting over the mighty gloom of waters flashed that death-like illumination. There _were_ figures on the yards of the drifting ship--there were wild cries of sharp despair and anguish; you could fancy there were even agonized hands stretching out in vain for help, and there were--yes, there were also figures upon the sands. "God preserve us!" exclaimed Miss Crankie in overwhelming awe and excitement as the flash shone over their faces. "Miss Ross for pity's sake come in." Anne did come in--she snatched a shawl which hung upon a chair, and hurried blindly forward to the door. "Where are ye gaun?" exclaimed Miss Crankie. It was echoed in different tones by all the others, as they crowded together in awe and terror. "To the sands--to the sands," said Anne: she made her way through them in spite of remonstrance and entreaty: she extricated herself from the detaining grasp of Miss Crankie, and leaving the house, ran hastily towards Schole.