But my words were scarcely heard, so violent was the gust that burst upon us.  For a few moments it seemed as if everything would go down before it, but the old house only shook and rocked a little.

“Hurrah!” I cried.  “The bulk of the gust has gone by, and now we are all right!”

At that instant a blinding gleam and an instantaneous crash left us stunned and bewildered.  But as I recovered my senses, I saw flames bursting from the roof of our barn.

CHAPTER XXXVII

RALLYING FROM THE BLOW

Our house was far enough from the barn to prevent the shock of the thunderbolt from disabling us beyond a moment or two.  Merton had fallen off his chair, but was on his feet almost instantly; the other children were soon sobbing and clinging to my wife and myself.

In tones that I sought to render firm and quiet, I said:  “No more of this foolish fear.  We are in God’s hands, and He will take care of us.  Winifred, you must rally and soothe the children, while Merton and I go out and save what we can.  All danger to the house is now over, for the worst of the storm has passed.”

In a moment my wife, although very pale, was reassuring the younger children, and Merton and I rushed forth.

“Lead the horse out of the barn basement, Merton,” I cried, “and tie him securely behind the house.  If he won’t go readily, throw a blanket over his eyes.”

I spoke these words as we ran through the torrents of rain precipitated by the tremendous concussion which the lightning had produced.

I opened the barn doors and saw that the hay was on fire.  There was not a second to lose, and excitement doubled my strength.  The load of hay on the wagon had not yet caught.  Although nearly stifled with sulphurous smoke, I seized the shafts and backed the wagon with its burden out into the rain.  Then, seizing a fork, I pushed and tossed off the load so that I could draw our useful market vehicle to a safe distance.  There were a number of crates and baskets in the barn, also some tools, etc.  These I had to let go.  Hastening to the basement, I found that Merton had succeeded in getting the horse away.  There was still time to smash the window of the poultry-room and toss the chickens out of doors.  Our cow, fortunately, was in the meadow.

By this time Mr. Jones and Junior were on the ground, and they were soon followed by Rollins, Bagley, and others.  There was nothing to do now, however, but to stand aloof and witness the swift destruction.  After the first great gust had passed, there was fortunately but little wind, and the heavy downpour prevented the flames from spreading.  In this we stood, scarcely heeding it in the excitement of the hour.  After a few moments I hastened to assure my trembling wife and crying children that the rain made the house perfectly safe, and that they were in no danger at all.  Then I called to the neighbors to come and stand under the porch-roof.