“Och, Martin, boy,” gasped the affrighted sailor, “it’s my belafe that all the evil spirits on arth live in yonder wood; indeed I do.”

“Nonsense, Barney,” said Martin, laughing; “there are no such things as ghosts; at any rate I’m resolved to face them, for if we don’t get some sticks the fire will go out and leave us very comfortless.  Come, I’ll go up with you.”

“Put on yer shoes then, avic, for the sarpints are no ghosts, anyhow, and I’m tould they’re pisonous sometimes.”

They soon found the bundle of dry sticks that Barney had thrown down, and returning with it to the beach, they speedily kindled a roaring fire, which made them feel quite cheerful.  True, they had nothing to eat; but having had a good dinner on board the barque late that afternoon, they were not much in want of food.  While they sat thus on the sand of the sea-shore, spreading their hands before the blaze and talking over their strange position, a low rumbling of distant thunder was heard.  Barney’s countenance instantly fell.

“What’s the matter, Barney?” inquired Martin, as he observed his companion gaze anxiously up at the sky.

“Och, it’s comin’, sure enough.”

“And what though it does come?” returned Martin; “we can creep under one of these thick bushes till the shower is past.”

“Did ye iver see a thunder-storm in the tropics?” inquired Barney.

“No, never,” replied Martin.

“Then if ye don’t want to feel and see it both at wance, come with me as quick as iver ye can.”

Barney started up as he spoke, stuck his cutlass and pistol into his belt, and set off towards the woods at a sharp run, followed closely by his wondering companion.

Their haste was by no means unnecessary.  Great black clouds rushed up towards the zenith from all points of the compass, and, just as they reached the woods, darkness so thick that it might almost be felt overspread the scene.  Then there was a flash of lightning so vivid that it seemed as if a bright day had been created and extinguished in a moment, leaving the darkness ten times more oppressive.  It was followed instantaneously by a crash and a prolonged rattle, that sounded as if a universe of solid worlds were rushing into contact overhead and bursting into atoms.  The flash was so far useful to the fugitives, that it enabled them to observe a many-stemmed tree with dense and heavy foliage, under which they darted.  They were just in time, and had scarcely seated themselves among its branches when the rain came down in a way not only that Martin had never seen, but that he had never conceived of before.  It fell, as it were, in broad heavy sheets, and its sound was a loud, continuous roar.