It was the first squall, or prologue, of the coming tempest, and as we started and looked about us, we found that a gloom, like the approach of evening, had settled round the house.
'God pity all poor folks at sea!' she said.

'We'll see no more of my father till the morrow's morning.' And then she told me, as we sat by the fire and hearkened to the rising gusts, of how this change had fallen upon my uncle.

All last winter he had been dark and fitful in his mind.

Whenever the Roost ran high, or, as Mary said, whenever the Merry Men were dancing, he would lie out for hours together on the Head, if it were at night, or on the top of Aros by day, watching the tumult of the sea, and sweeping the horizon for a sail.
After February the tenth, when the wealth-bringing wreck was cast ashore at Sandag, he had been at first unnaturally gay, and his excitement had never fallen in degree, but only changed in kind from dark to darker.

He neglected his work, and kept Rorie idle.