"stoker-dracula-168" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stoker Bram)

again! She is steered mighty strangely, for she doesn't mind the
hand on the wheel; changes about with every puff of wind. We'll hear
more of her before this time to-morrow."

CHAPTER VII.

CUTTING FROM "THE DAILYGRAPH".

(Pasted in Mina Murray's Journal.)

From a Correspondent.

8 August. Whitby

One of the greatest and suddenest storms on record has just been
experienced here, with results both strange and unique. The weather
had been somewhat sultry, but not to any degree uncommon in the
month of August. Saturday evening was as fine as was ever known, and
the great body of holiday-makers laid out yesterday for visits to
Mulgrave Woods, Robin Hood's Bay, Rig Mill, Runswick, Staithes, and
the various trips in the neighbourhood of Whitby. The steamers Emma
and Scarborough made trips up and down the coast, and there was an
unusual amount of "tripping" both to and from Whitby. The day was
unusually fine till the afternoon, when some of the gossips who
frequent the East Cliff churchyard, and from that commanding
eminence watch the wide sweep of sea visible to the north and east,
called attention to a sudden show of "mares'-tails" high in the sky to
the north-west. The wind was then blowing from the south-west in the
mild degree which in barometrical language is ranked "No. 2: light
breeze." The coastguard on duty at once made report, and one old
fisherman, who for more than half a century has kept watch on
weather signs from the East Cliff, foretold in an emphatic manner
the coming of a sudden storm. The approach of sunset was so very
beautiful, so grand in its masses of splendidly-coloured clouds,
that there was quite an assemblage on the walk along the cliff in
the old churchyard to enjoy the beauty. Before the sun dipped blow the
black mass of Kettleness, standing boldly athwart the western sky, its
downward way was marked by myriad clouds of every sunset-colour-
flame, purple, pink, green, violet, and all the tints of gold; with
here and there masses not large, but of seemingly absolute
blackness, in all sorts of shapes, as well outlined as colossal
silhouettes. The experience was not lost on the painters, and
doubtless some of the sketches of the "Prelude to the Great Storm"
will grace the R.A. and R.I. walls in May next. More than one
captain made up his mind then and there that his "cobble" or his
"mule," as they term the different classes of boats, would remain in
the harbour till the storm had passed. The wind fell away entirely
during the evening, and at midnight there was a dead calm, a sultry
heat, and that prevailing intensity which, on the approach of thunder,
affects persons of a sensitive nature. There were but few lights in