"Now, come into the verandah and let us watch the storm." We went and sat there; the highest peaks of the great cloud alps, lately brilliant red, were now cold silver grey, harshly defined against a faint crimson background, and we began to hear the thunder rolling and muttering.

All else was deadly still and heavy.
"Mark the lightning!" said the Doctor; "that which is before the rain-wall is white, and that behind violetcoloured.

Here comes the thundergust." A fierce blast of wind came hurrying on, carrying a cloud of dust and leaves before it.

It shook the four corners of the house and passed away.

And now it was a fearful sight to see the rain-spouts pouring from the black edge of the lower cloud as from a pitcher, nearly overhead, and lit up by a continuous blaze of lightning: another blast of wind, now a few drops, and in ten minutes you could barely distinguish the thunder above the rattle of the rain on the shingles.
It warred and banged around us for an hour, so that we could hardly hear one another speak.