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Irving, Washington, 1783-1859

"Tales of a Traveller"

They listened for a moment, but
only heard the rain pelting against the windows, and the wind howling
among the trees. The explosion was soon explained by the apparition of
an old negro's bald head thrust in at the door, his white goggle eyes
contrasting with his jetty poll, which was wet with rain and shone like
a bottle. In a jargon but half intelligible he announced that the
kitchen chimney had been struck with lightning.
A sullen pause of the storm, which now rose and sunk in gusts, produced
a momentary stillness. In this interval the report of a musket was
heard, and a long shout, almost like a yell, resounded from the shore.
Every one crowded to the window; another musket shot was heard, and
another long shout, that mingled wildly with a rising blast of wind. It
seemed as if the cry came up from the bosom of the waters; for though
incessant flashes of lightning spread a light about the shore, no one
was to be seen.
Suddenly the window of the room overhead was opened, and a loud halloo
uttered by the mysterious stranger. Several hailings passed from one
party to the other, but in a language which none of the company in the
bar-room could understand; and presently they heard the window closed,
and a great noise overhead as if all the furniture were pulled and
hauled about the room. The negro servant was summoned, and shortly
after was seen assisting the veteran to lug the ponderous sea-chest
down stairs.


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