As he advanced, forked lightnings shot into the room, and the thunder split overhead.

The owl hooted fearfully, quitted its perch, and flew off by the way it had entered the chamber.
The Dark Shape came on.

It stood beside Mistress Nutter, and she prostrated herself before it.

The gestures of the figure were angry and imperious--those of Mistress Nutter supplicating.

Their converse was drowned by the rattling of the storm.