The black clouds came rolling over the horizon in still blacker
masses, lower and lower, lashing the very earth with their angry
skirts, which were rent and split with vivid flashes of lightning.
The rising wind almost overpowered with its roaring the thunder that
pealed momentarily nearer and nearer. The rain came down in broad,
heavy splashes, followed by a fierce, pitiless hail, as if Heaven's
anger was pursuing them.
Amelie clung to Philibert. She thought of Francesca da Rimini
clinging to Paolo amidst the tempest of wind and the moving
darkness, and uttered tremblingly the words, "Oh, Pierre! what an
omen. Shall it be said of us as of them, 'Amor condusse noi ad una
morte'?" ("Love has conducted us into one death.")
"God grant we may one day say so," replied he, pressing her to his
bosom, "when we have earned it by a long life of mutual love and
devotion. But now cheer up, darling; we are home."
The canoes pushed madly to the bank. The startled holiday party
sprang out; servants were there to help them. All ran across the
lawn under the wildly-tossing trees, and in a few moments, before
the storm could overtake them with its greatest fury, they reached
the Manor House, and were safe under the protection of its strong
and hospitable roof.
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