The rain grew harder on the roof, and its steady patter was like the rocking of a cradle to a child.

His nerves were of steel, and the mechanism of his body and brain were not upset at all.
The half-dropped lids dropped down entirely, and he slept, breathing peacefully.
Paul watched, his brief lethargy gone; but his accustomed eyes could see little now through the loopholes, only the dim forest and the rain, falling slowly but steadily.

He and Henry seemed to be alone in the world.
Outside all the wilderness was in gloom, but in the little cabin it was dry and warm.

The few drops that came through the boards now and then, and fell with a little pat on the floor, were nothing.

He and Henry were dry and safe, and it seemed to him that so far, at least, they had all the better of the battle.