He got closer to the Weir, and peered at its well-known posts and timbers.

Nothing in the least unusual was remotely shadowed forth.

But he resolved that he would come back early in the morning.
The Weir ran through his broken sleep, all night, and he was back again at sunrise.

It was a bright frosty morning.

The whole composition before him, when he stood where he had stood last night, was clearly discernible in its minutest details.