Having found her, they clasped hands, and stood upon the brow of the hill calmly watching the coming tempest, believing it to be the coming of the end.

Between the claps of thunder they could hear the broken sentences of Elder Hankins, saying something about the lightning that shineth from one part of heaven to the other, and about the promised coming in the clouds.

But they did not much heed the words.
They were looking the blinding lightning in the face, and in their courageous trust they thought themselves ready to look into the flaming countenance of the Almighty, if they should be called before Him.

Every fresh burst of thunder seemed to August to be the rocking of the world, trembling in the throes of dissolution.

But the world might crumble or melt; there is something more enduring than the world.