of Africa; until we almost laughed—­God pardon us!—­at the picture of his anxiety to be home while such a storm was raging at the doors of Lantrig.  And then I listened to wonderful stories of the East Indies and the marvels that men found there, and wondered whether father would bring home a parrot, and if it would be as like Aunt Loveday as the parrot down at the “Lugger Inn,” at Polkimbra, and so crept upstairs to bed to dream of Captain Credence and parrots, and the “Lugger Inn” in the city of Mansoul, as though no fiends were shouting without and whirling sea and sky together in one devil’s cauldron.

How long I slept I know not; but I woke with the glare of a candle in my eyes, to see my mother, all in white, standing by the bed, and in her eyes an awful and soul-sickening horror.

“Jasper, Jasper! wake up and listen!”

I suppose I must have been still half asleep, for I lay looking at her with dazzled sight, not rightly knowing whether this vision were real or part of my strange dreams.

“Jasper, for the love of God wake up!”

At this, so full were her words of mortal fear, I shook off my drowsiness and sat up in bed, wide awake now and staring at the strange apparition.  My mother was white as death, and trembling so that the candle in her hand shook to and fro, casting wild dancing shadows on the wall behind.

“Oh, Jasper, listen, listen!”

I listened, but could hear nothing save the splashing of spray and rain upon my window, and above it the voice of the storm; now moaning as a creature in pain, now rising and growing into an angry roar whereat the whole house from chimney to base shook and shuddered, and anon sinking slowly with loud sobbings and sighings as though the anguish of a million tortured souls were borne down the blast.

“Mother, I hear nothing but the storm.”

“Nothing but the storm!  Oh, Jasper, are you sure you hear nothing but the storm?”

“Nothing else, mother, though that is bad enough.”

She seemed relieved a little, but still trembled sadly, and caught her breath with every fresh roar.  The tempest had gathered fury, and was now raging as though Judgment Day were come, and earth about to be blotted out.  For some minutes we listened almost motionless, but heard nothing save the furious elements; and, indeed, it was hard to believe that any sound on earth could be audible above such a din.  At last I turned to my mother and said—­

“Mother dear, it is nothing but the storm.  You were thinking of father, and that made you nervous.  Go back to bed—­it is so cold here—­and try to go to sleep.  What was it you thought you heard?”

“Dear Jasper, you are a good boy, and I suppose you are right, for you can hear nothing, and I can hear nothing now.  But, oh, Jasper! it was so terrible, and I seemed to hear it so plainly; though I daresay it was only my—­Oh, God! there it is again! listen! listen!”