So, as time went on, he pushed his books further and set himself to this consideration.

For a while he sat looking at his own doings only by the light, as it were, of two candles--the one, of expediency; the other, of rectitude.

Had he been wise?
Had he been good?
Not being of a contemplative or egotistical disposition, he soon fidgeted.

Thinking he heard a sound outside, which might be wind rising, or might be the distant approach of the iron snow-plough, he got up to look out.

The small panes of his window were so obscured by frostwork that he did not attempt to look through the glass, but opened his door.
Far or near there was no sign of rising wind or coming engine; only, above, the glowing stars, with now and then a shaft of northern light passing majestically beneath them, and, below, the great white world, dim, but clearly seen as it reflected the light.