A mighty
host of gray clouds, piled thickly one upon another, and torn and
tunneled by feverish wind-gusts, were hastening swiftly and silently
across the sky from the west. Beyond, where they were thickest and
angriest, a yellowish, lurid tint was reflected against them. The valley
darkened like a frowning face, and the summits of the western hills
were blotted out of sight. A lightning-flash shivered brightly through
the air, and then came the first growling, leaping, accumulating peal of
thunder. A sudden, rustling breath swept through the garden, and,
following it, in big, quick drops, and soon in an unintermittent
myriad-footed tramp, the rustling, perpendicular down-pelting of the
rain.
In less than a minute, a gray, wet veil had been drawn across the
farther side of the valley, hiding it from the professor's sight. Even
the outer limits of the garden grew indistinct. The leaves of the trees
bobbed ceaselessly up and down, and glistened and dripped; the shrubs
and flowers seemed to lift themselves higher from the earth, and stretch
out their green fingers to the plenteous shower. The tinkle of the
fountain was quite obliterated, and the ordinarily smooth surface of the
basin sprang upward in thousands of tiny pyramids, as if madly welcoming
the impact of the rain-drops.
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