thus adding its gloomy grandeur to the sublimity of the thunder-storm, which now deepened, peal after peal, among the mountains.  To such as are unacquainted with mountain scenery, and have never witnessed an inland water spout, it is only necessary to say, that it resembles a long inverted cone, that hangs from a bank of clouds whose blackness is impenetrable.  It appears immovable at the upper part, where it joins the clouds; but, as it gradually tapers to a long and delicate point, it waves to and fro with a beautiful and gentle motion, which blends a sense of grace with the very terror it excites.  It seldom lasts more than a few minutes, for, as soon as the clouds are dispersed by the thunder it disappears so quickly, that, having once taken your eye off it when it begins to diminish, it is gone before you can catch it again—­a fact which adds something of a wild and supernatural character to its life-like motion and appearance.  The storm in which we saw it, was altogether confined to the mountains, where it raged for a long time, evidently pouring down deluges of rain, whilst on the hill side which we traversed, there was nothing but calmness and sunshine.

“‘It will be before us,’ said Raymond, pointing to a dry torrent bed close beside us; ’whisht, here it is—–­ha, ha, I like that—­see it, see it!’

“I looked in the direction of his hand, and was entranced in a kind of wild and novel delight, by witnessing a large bursting body of water, something between a dark and yellow hue, tumbling down the bed of the river, with a roaring noise and impetuosity of which I had never formed any conception before.  From the spot we stood on, up to its formation among the mountains, the river was literally a furious mountain torrent, foaming over its very banks, whilst from the same place down to the cultivated country it was almost dry, with merely an odd pool, connected here and there by a stream too shallow to cover the round worn stones in its channel.  So rapid, and, indeed dangerous, is the rise of a mountain flood, that many a life of man and beast have fallen victims to the fatal speed of its progress.  Raymond now bent his steps over to the left, and, in a few minutes, we entered a graveyard, so closely surrounded by majestic whitethorns, that it came upon me by surprise.

“‘Whisht,’ said he, ’she’s often here—­behind this ould chapel.  For ’tis there they are, the two big coffins and the little one—­but I liked the little one best.’

“He conducted me to an old mullioned window in the gable, through which a single glance discovered to me the female of whose insanity, and the dreadful cause of it, I had before heard.  Whilst pointing her out to me, he laid his hand upon my shoulder, and, heavy as it was, I could feel the more distinctly by its vibrations that he trembled; and, on looking into his face I perceived that he had got deadly pale, and that the same spirit of humanity and compassion, to which I have alluded, had returned to it once more.  There was not reason in his face, to be sure, but there certainly was an expression there, trembling, and mild, and beautiful, as is the light of the morning star, before the glory of the sun has unveiled itself in heaven.  To Raymond’s mind that early herald had indeed come, but that was all—­to him had never arisen the light of perfect day.