n the air, heard of few and heeded by
none, and straight into the hall rushed upon the gay company a deluge
of rain, mingled with large, half-melted hail-stones. In a moment or
two scarce a light was left burning, except those in the holes and
recesses of the walls. The merrymakers scattered like flies--into the
house, into the tower, into the sheds and stables in the court behind,
under the trees in front--anywhere out of the hall, where shelter was
none from the perpendicular, abandoned down-pour.

At that moment, Letty was dancing with Tom, and her hand happened to be
in his. He clasped it tight, and, as quickly as the crowd and the
confusion of shelter-seeking would permit, led her to the door of the
tower already mentioned. But many had run in the same direction, and
already its lower story and stair were crowded with refugees--the elder
bemoaning the sudden change, and folding tight around them what poor
wraps they were fortunate enough to have retained; the younger merrier
than ever, notwithstanding the cold gusts that now poked their
spirit-arms higher and thither through the openings of the half-ruinous
building: to them even the destruction of their finery was but added
cause of laughter. But a few minutes before, its freshness had been a
keen pleasure to them, brightening their consciousness with a rare
feeling of perfection; now crushed and rumpled, soiled and wet and
torn, it was still fuel to the fire of gayety. But Tom did not stay
among them. He knew the place well; having a turn for scrambling, he
had been all over it many a time. On through the crowd, he led Letty up
the stair to the first floor. Even here were a few couples talking and
laughing in the dark. With a warning, by no means unnecessary, to mind
where they stepped, for the floors were bad, he passed on to the next
stair.

"Let us stop here, Mr. Helmer," said Letty. "There is plenty of room
here."

"I want to show you something," answered Tom. "You need not be
frightened. I know every nook of the place."

"I am not frightened," said Letty, and made no further objection.

At the top of that stair they entered a straight passage, in the middle
of which was a faint glimmer of light from an oval aperture in the side
of it. Thither Tom led Letty, and told her to look through. She did so.

Beneath lay the great gulf, wide and deep, of the hall they had just
left. This was the little window, high in its gable, through which, in
far-away times