Then came a tremendous crash of thunder, like the sound of heaven’s dome breaking in, it was so fearfully loud and awesome; and the reverberating roar was accompanied by a vivid flash of forked lightning, whose zigzag stream struck a tall tamarind-tree standing in front of me, splintering the trunk from top to bottom with a scrunching noise like that made in rending timber!
I turned and ran back to the house for shelter as fast as I could, anticipating what was coming, such storms being of frequent occurrence in the tropics after exceptional heat and when there is no wind to agitate the pent-up air; but, ere I could ascend the half dozen steps leading up to the terrace, the rain-cloud overhead burst and a sheet of water came down as if poured over the side of some giant reservoir in the sky, wetting me to the skin by the time I had gained the shelter of the verandah.
My mother was just coming out of the drawing-room to see where I was, when Jake came up racing behind me, shouting out at the pitch of his voice, above the sound of the sluicing rain, “De packet am in, Mass’ Tom! De packet am in!”
Chapter Two.
“More Haste, Worse Speed.”
“Hurrah!” I shouted out.
I was so overjoyed at hearing Jake’s announcement that the long-expected mail steamer had at last arrived that I was utterly oblivious of my soaking condition, although I had been so completely drenched in the brief space of time that had elapsed before I could get under shelter from the shower, that the water was now trickling down my dripping garments and running out of my boots. “Look alive, old fellow,” I added to the willing darkey, who was in an equally moist state, his black skin glistening as if it had received a fresh coating of Japan varnish. “Saddle my pony at once, for I must go into town, as I told you!”
“But, Tom,” interposed my mother at this juncture, “you cannot start in all this rain. See how wet you are already, dear, and it is still pouring down, worse than ever!”