The storm continued.

They looked through the portcullis made by the briers upon a world of rain.

The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled; in here was the castle hold, dim and safe.

They were as alone as in a fairy-tale, as alone as though around the cave beat an ocean that boat had never crossed.
They sat near each other; once or twice Ian, rising, moved to and fro in the cave, or at the opening looked into the turmoil without.

When he did this her eyes followed him.