The roar of the cataract in the ravine silenced the voice of the tempest that raged above it.
From the heights of the Great Gable the wind came in all but overpowering gusts across the top of the pass.

Ralph had been thrown off his feet at one moment by the fierceness of a terrific blast.

It was the same terrible storm that began on the night of his father's death.

Ralph had at first been anxious for the safety of the procession that was coming, but he had found a more sheltered pathway under a deep line of furze bushes, and through this he meant to pioneer the procession when it arrived.

There was one gap in the furze at the mouth of a tributary ghyll.