The moon was riding on the top of a huge
mountain of clouds towards the north-west. As he gazed they came rapidly
athwart the heavens, like the wings of some terrible demon visibly
unfolding. On a sudden the door of his chamber flew open. He started
forward to meet the intruder, but there was no footstep--no sound save
the hurrying gusts that foreran the approaching tempest. Soon like a
mighty deluge it burst on at once in its full vigour, as though it would
overwhelm creation once more in immediate ruin. The roll of the river
answered swiftly to the tempest's voice, now swollen to a huge and
foaming torrent, rising rapidly over its level banks, and threatening
devastation on every side. Paslew quaked. Gloomy forebodings crept upon
him. He beheld in this strange visitation another and a manifest
interposition of Heaven, fighting against the cause he had unhappily
espoused. Rest was out of the question, his whole thoughts being
occupied in the contrivance of measures for his own immediate safety.
In the morning consternation had seized the whole camp. They beheld the
muddy and turbulent waters before them, again frustrating their hopes,
levelling their proud schemes, and fighting visibly and irresistibly
against them, in front of their adversaries.
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