The night-wind howled and swept over the heathy plains that surrounded the castle. It drove on shriekingly; then paused; and then the sharp lashings of the rain-storm pelted onward before its fierce will. The distant hills were hung with mist; and when the flashes of lightning darted a momentary glare upon all around, they served but to illumine the dense dank veil that shrouded castle, hill, and valley.

Dismally and wailingly the gust panted on, lamenting; and but held in its mighty breath to take fresh force for the next burst of rage. Moaning and plaintive, it lulled and halted; then screaming and hurling wildly on, it poured forth its fury, aloud, abroad, aloft, scattering clouds and mists, wrenching trees from their rooted firmness, dashing the waters of stream, lake, and torrent, and filling the sky with uproar and tempest.

Round the walls and battlements of the castle, it beat, and tore, and raved; the rain whirled its sheeted drifts against the stony security, as if mad with impotent endeavours to penetrate the building, and whelm all beneath its washing inundation; the lightning darted fiery threats amid turret and tower, in vivid, sudden, quick-succeeding flashes; while the deep-rolling thunder mingled its awful menaces with the howls and complainings of the wind.