It licked the ground afore me--ay, licked.

Then a burst of thunder--it must have been a thunderbolt--I couldn't hear the wind and sleet and water.

I fainted, that must have been it.

When I came round I groped about me where I lay--" "A dream, Sim." "No, it was no dream! What was it I touched?
I was delivered! Thank heaven, _that_ death was not mine.

I rose, staggered out, and fled." By the glimmering light from the windows of the inn--there came the sound of laughter from within--Ralph could see that hysterical tears coursed down the poor tailor's cheeks.