From a knot of persons gathered round one of the fires he learnt that the enthusiast was addressing the crowd at the west side of the building, and proceeding thither he perceived him standing on the edge of the balustrade of the south-western tower, surmounting the little church of Saint Gregory.

His brazier was placed on one of the buttresses, and threw its light on the mighty central tower of the fabric, and on a large clock-face immediately beneath.

Solomon Eagle was evidently denouncing the city, but his words were lost in the distance.

As he proceeded, a loud clap of thunder pealed overhead.
"It comes--it comes!" cried the enthusiast, in a voice that could be distinctly heard in the death-like stillness that followed the thunder.
"The wrath of Heaven is at hand." As he spoke, a bright flash cut the air, and a bolt struck down, one of the pinnacles of the great tower.

Flash after flash followed in quick succession, and the enthusiast, who seemed wrapped in flame, extended his arms towards Heaven, as if beseeching a further display of its vengeance.