Then, his spirit wavered.

Splendid as it would be to scare these hateful people, there was nothing splendid in the weather that numbed him with cold and took away his breath and half-blinded him with snow.
What was the fun of making others suffer; if he himself were suffering tenfold more?
And, on reaching the barrack, he would have all that freezing and blast-hammering trip back again.

Aw, what was the use?
And Cyril came to a halt.

He had definitely abandoned his high enterprise.

Turning around, he began to retrace his stumbling steps.
But, at best, in a large field, in a blizzard and in pitch darkness, and with no visible landmarks, it is not easy to double back on one's route, with any degree of accuracy.