"Then I should know that it was no hurt, but in some way a blessing, because the lightning comes from God. I always like to see it, because--There!" she said, as a vivid flash illumined the place. "Did you ever see anything so bright as that? How should we ever fancy the brightness of God's throne, if He did not send us a single ray, now and then, in this manner--one single ray, which is as much as we can bear? I dare say you have heard it read in church how all things are God's messengers, without any word being said about their hurting us,--`fire and hail;' here they are!" When that gust was past, she went on, "`Snow and vapour, stormy winds fulfilling His word.' Here we are in the midst of the fire and the hail and the stormy winds. If we looked out, perhaps we might see the `snow and vapour.'" The children did not seem to wish it. "Then again," the widow went on, "we are told that `He causeth His wind to blow, and the waters flow.' I am sure I can show you that. I am sure the sea must have risen much already, before such a wind as this. Come!" she continued, wrapping her plaid round herself and the children; "keep close to me and you will not be cold. The cold has not come yet: and if we stand under the sheltered side of the house we shall not be blown. Hark! there is the roar of the waves when the thunder stops. Now we shall see how `He causeth His wind to blow and the waters flow.'" She looked so cheerful and promised them such a sight, that they did not like to beg to stay within. Though the hail came pelting in gusts, there was no rain at present to wet them. The wind almost strangled them at the first moment; but they were under the eastern gable of the cottage in an instant, out of the force of the blast. There they sat down, all huddled together; and there the children saw more than they had been promised. The tempest had not yet reached Skye; and they could see, in the intervals of rolling clouds, mountain peaks glittering with snow. "There is the snow!" said the widow. "And see the vapours!--the tumbling, rolling vapours that we call steam-clouds! Look how the lightning flash darts out of them! and how the sea seems swelling and boiling up to meet the vapours! A little way from the land, the wind catches the spray and carries it up and away. If the wind was now from the east, as it will be in spring, that spray would wash over us, and drench us to the skin in a minute." "What, up here?" "Oh, yes, and higher still. There! Adam felt some then." And well he might. The sea was now wrought into such tumult that its waves rolled in upon the rocks with tremendous force, causing the caverns to resound with the thundering shock, and the very summit of the precipices to vibrate. Every projection sent up columns of spray, the sprinklings of which reached the heights, bedewing the window of the cottage, and sending in the party under the gable.