What was it you thought you heard ?" "Dear Jasper, you are a good boy, and I suppose you are right, for you can hear nothing, and I can hear nothing now.

But, oh, Jasper! it was so terrible, and I seemed to hear it so plainly; though I daresay it was only my--Oh, God! there it is again! listen! listen!" This time I heard--heard clearly and unmistakably, and, hearing, felt the blood in my veins turn to very ice.
Shrill and distinct above the roar of the storm, which at the moment had somewhat lulled, there rose a prolonged wail, or rather shriek, as of many human voices rising slowly in one passionate appeal to the mercy of Heaven, and dying away in sobbing, shuddering despair as the wild blast broke out again with the mocking laughter of all the fiends in the pit--a cry without similitude on earth, yet surely and awfully human; a cry that rings in my ears even now, and will continue to ring until I die.
I sprang from bed, forced the window open and looked out.

The wind flung a drenching shower of spray over my face and thin night-dress, then tore past up the hill.

I looked and listened, but nothing could be seen or heard; no blue light, nor indeed any light at all; no cry, nor gun, nor signal of distress--nothing but the howling of the wind as it swept up from the sea, the thundering of the surf upon the beach below; and all around, black darkness and impenetrable night.
The blast caught the lattice from my hand as I closed the window, and banged it furiously.

I turned to look at my mother.