I turn and behold my friend.

He stands with a dark lantern in his hand and a spade and light pickaxe over his shoulder.

He expresses both delight and surprise that I have come.

I tell him I had set out before the bad weather began.
He, to whom neither weather, darkness, nor difficulty seems to have any relation or significance, so entirely is his soul wrapped up in his own deep intentions, asks me to take the lantern and accompany him.

I take it and walk by his side.