Epidemic diseases, I believed, were often heralded by a gasping, sobbing, tormented, long-lamenting east wind.

Hence, I inferred, arose the legend of the Banshee.

I fancied, too, I had noticed--but was not philosopher enough to know whether there was any connection between the circumstances--that we often at the same time hear of disturbed volcanic action in distant parts of the world; of rivers suddenly rushing above their banks; and of strange high tides flowing furiously in on low sea-coasts.

"Our globe," I had said to myself, "seems at such periods torn and disordered; the feeble amongst us wither in her distempered breath, rushing hot from steaming volcanoes." I listened and trembled; Miss Marchmont slept.
About midnight, the storm in one half-hour fell to a dead calm.

The fire, which had been burning dead, glowed up vividly.