The Vast Abyss Part 87

"What a storm, my dear!" she said.

"You up?"

"Oh yes, my dear; it was impossible to lie. I've lit the kitchen fire, for poor cook is in hysterics, and Maria is sobbing and crying--quite helpless."

"How silly!" muttered Tom. "Where's uncle?"

"Here I am. Ready?"

For Uncle Richard appeared with a ready-lit lantern and the keys.

"We shall have to go out by the front door, Tom; the wind's worse on the other side of the house."

"I'm ready, uncle."

"Pray take care, sir," said Mrs Fidler. "If one of the sails of that mill is blown off--oh, dear, dear, what am I thinking about?"

"What indeed, Mrs Fidler! Be ready to close the door after us, for the wind has tremendous force.--Come along, Tom."

He led the way, opened the door, and the wind rushed in, banging others, setting pictures swinging, whisking a couple of hats off their pegs, and rus.h.i.+ng up into the house with a roar.

Mrs Fidler strove to close the door as they pa.s.sed out, but failed, and Tom had to help, holding on by the handle, and dragging the door to.

Outside, the evergreens were beaten down, and the loose strands of the different creepers were flogging wall and trellis-work in a way which forbode destruction to both tree and trellis. Twice over Tom had to turn his back to get his breath, and in the darkness he could see the ornamental conifers of the garden bent over like gra.s.s; while from a short distance away, where the pine-wood commenced, there was a tremendous roar, as of breakers during a storm. Fir-trees in a soft breeze murmur like the sea; in a gale the resemblance is startling.

Half-way to the yard gate Tom was caught by a sudden blast, buffeted, and, staggering hard, had again to turn his back before he could get his breath; while as the gate was reached, another blast caught the lantern, swung it against the post, the gla.s.s was broken, and _puff_, the light went out.

"We must go back," said Uncle Richard, with his lips close to Tom's ear.

"No, all right; there's a box of matches in the table-drawer up-stairs."

They pushed on, Tom closing the gate, which was nearly torn from his hand, while, as they ascended to the mill, the wind came with redoubled violence, and they had quite a struggle to get, to the door.

"It is terrible," panted Uncle Richard, as soon as they were inside with the door closed, and the wind shrieking and roaring around the tall building as if seeking to sweep it away.

They mounted in profound darkness to the laboratory, where the matches were found, and all the time the trap-door overhead was being lifted a few inches every minute, and fell with a clap, while the shrieking of the wind, and the rattling and banging of the woodwork in the observatory, sounded ominous of danger to the work of many, many months.

"Time we came, Tom," said Uncle Richard grimly, as the lantern was lit, and the broken pane replaced by the covers torn from an old book just about the size.

"Yes, quite," replied Tom. "Come on."

He stepped quickly to the ladder-like stairs, sprang up, threw open the trap-door, and was about to enter the room, when the trap-door was flung back upon him violently.

"Hurt?" shouted Uncle Richard.

"Yes; not much," cried Tom, and thrusting the trap-door open again, he forced it back, and, aware now of the danger, held it firmly as he got up; and then, while his uncle followed with the light, closing it again directly and securing it with a bolt.

Tom's heart beat as the dim light of the lantern was thrown upon the great telescope, for fear that it should have met with injury, but to his great delight the top was directed right away from the open shutter, which now gave evidence of its loose state by yielding to the pressure of the wind, and giving a tremendous bang.

"Now, Tom, how are we to stop that?" shouted Uncle Richard, for the roar through the opening, mingled with hissing and shrieking, was deafening.

"Don't know," yelled the boy, as he crept to the opening and found that the wind had wrenched it open, and turned it right over upon the roof.

"Must do something," he shouted again, as he drew in his head.

"If we don't the wind will end by lifting off this roof, and destroying my gla.s.s."

"Cord's broke," said Tom in a momentary lull of the wind. Then the roar began again, and the building quivered, while the shutter was lifted and beaten down again with a bang.

Then, from somewhere out in the darkness, came a tremendous roaring crash, apparently very near.

"What's that?" cried Tom; "house blown down?"

"One of the big elms on the green for certain. Hark!"

Tom was hearkening, for directly after there was another crash, and another.

"No doubt about it," said Uncle Richard. "One has struck the other, and the great elms have gone down like skittles."

"There goes another," cried Tom, as there was a fresh crash, which sounded louder than either of those which preceded it. "But I don't want our observatory to go, uncle. You put the light down on the other side, where it'll be sheltered from the wind, and I'll get out into the gallery and try if I can drag the shutter over, and then we must nail it in its place."

"Impossible, my lad. You could not stand out there without being blown off."

"But I must, uncle.--If the wind comes in--"

_Whoo_!

A tremendous squall struck the place, the shutter banged, the wooden dome roof rattled, and in the midst of the deafening din the wind drove in upon them with such force that they felt as if in the open air, and believed for the time that the round wooden top had been lifted off to go sailing away.

"That was a rum one, uncle," cried Tom breathlessly. "Now then, I must go, before another comes."

"No, no, my lad; life is of more consequence than observatories; it is not safe for you to go."

"But I shall be all right if you hold me tightly," cried Tom. "Come on."

Uncle Richard gave way, and took a firm grip of the boy's jacket as he climbed out through the shutter opening into the little gallery, where he reached over to get to the far edge of the shutter, to draw it to him, but the next moment he had crouched down and held on for dear life.

For, as if the storm had pounced upon him to tear him off the high building and sweep him away, down came the wind with a savage roar, and when for a few moments there was a slight lull, Tom yielded to the drag put on him by his uncle, and half climbed, half allowed himself to be lifted into the observatory.

"I never thought the wind could be so strong," he panted breathlessly.

"It is terrible to-night. I must go myself."

"You--uncle? Why, the place would hardly bear a man of your weight, and I couldn't hold you up if you slipped."

"Could you reach the edge of the shutter?"

"No, uncle, not by far enough."