Then he stood on the bunk and looked through the porthole.

He caught glimpses of lofty shores, trees at the summit, and stretches of a dark and angry sky.

Low thunder muttered, rolling up from the west.

Then came flashes of lightning, and the thunder grew louder.

By and by the wind blew heavily, making the schooner reel before it, and when it died somewhat rain fell in sheets.
Although he felt it rather than saw it, Robert really enjoyed the storm.
It seemed a tonic to him, and the wilder it was the steadier grew his own spirit.