So, with as much civility as could be mustered up between them, he took leave.

Shutting the door behind him, he went out into the dreary night, and began his lonesome walk back to Monkshaven.
The cold sleet almost blinded him as the sea-wind drove it straight in his face; it cut against him as it was blown with drifting force.
The roar of the wintry sea came borne on the breeze; there was more light from the whitened ground than from the dark laden sky above.
The field-paths would have been a matter of perplexity, had it not been for the well-known gaps in the dyke-side, which showed the whitened land beyond, between the two dark stone walls.

Yet he went clear and straight along his way, having unconsciously left all guidance to the animal instinct which co-exists with the human soul, and sometimes takes strange charge of the human body, when all the nobler powers of the individual are absorbed in acute suffering.

At length he was in the lane, toiling up the hill, from which, by day, Monkshaven might be seen.

Now all features of the landscape before him were lost in the darkness of night, against which the white flakes came closer and nearer, thicker and faster.