From here he made his way more cautiously, using his stick with his right hand, his torch, with his thumb upon the knob, in his left.

The lull in the storm seemed to be at an end.

Black, low-hanging clouds were closing in upon him.

Away to the right, where the line of marshes was unbroken, the boom of the wind grew louder.

A gust very nearly blew him down the bank.