It was an error of judgment.
There was a moment of astonished and ominous silence, then weather ensued.

The storm rose and spread in a surprising way, and I was snowed under in a very few minutes.

It was a bad defeat for me--a kind of Waterloo.

It promised to remain so, and I wished I had had better sense than to enter upon such a forlorn enterprise.

But just then I had a saving thought--at least a thought that offered a chance.