I sheltered myself after a fashion under a wide-spreading bush.

Bent double, with my face wrapped up, I was patiently awaiting the end of the storm, when, suddenly, by the gleam of a lightning-flash, it seemed to me that I descried a tall figure on the road.

I began to gaze attentively in that direction--the same figure sprang out of the earth as it were beside my gig.
"Who is this ?" asked a sonorous voice.
"Who are you yourself ?" "I'm the forester here." I mentioned my name.
"Ah, I know; you are on your way home ?" "Yes.

But you see what a storm--" "Yes, it is a thunderstorm," replied the voice.

A white flash of lightning illuminated the forester from head to foot; a short, crashing peal of thunder resounded immediately afterwards.