around that hill and upon it. Suddenly there came from the sea a straight short flash, followed by a clap—no, not a clap, a long peal of thunder, which echoed and bellowed among the hills, and did not die away as echoes do, but went tearing round and booming louder and louder, and the straight rod-like flashes of lightning—I suppose it was lightning—’ here Mrs Newman paused in her narrative with a scared look—‘came thick and fast out of that white fog, which had now spread over the land as well as the sea, so that the old lighthouse on the hilltop was hidden from sight. The noises, I tell you, Lesbia, went on worse and worse, and all the time, mixed with the dreadful thunder and the constant rattle like carpet-beating, there was the blowing of brass horns in short regular cadences repeated over and over again. At moments the great roar seemed beginning to subside, but it always broke out afresh; and I was getting already very frightened and giddy, when the white pall of cloud or smoke or whatever it was opened, and I saw the hillside clear, and everywhere about, all over the ground, there were streaks and patches of a horrid red, like blood! That finished me; I fell forward on my face and shut my eyes, and the noises slowly surged away into the far distance on my right. Presently I summoned courage to open my eyes and then to get up. The whole scene had changed like a dissolving view again, and the last part of my dream was beautiful; but I felt so shaken that I could not enjoy it. I saw another place with another atmosphere, under an exquisite rainbow, and there was a fine old building with towers—it may have been a cathedral—I don't exactly remember; but what I do remember is this, that I saw you, my darling—’ here Mrs Newman sobbed with emotion, ‘in a procession of lovely young girls, not walking, but all borne aloft upon men’s shoulders, seated on gorgeous thrones and with banners and images and emblems carried before and
