It was a grey day, with snow waiting in cloud-banks in the north sky and a thin wind whistling through the pines.

The scene matched his humour.

He was in love for the moment with the stony and stormy in life.

He hungered morbidly for ill-fortune, something to stamp out the ease in his soul, and weld him into the form of a man.
He had got his chance and the rest lay with himself.

It was a chance of high adventure, a great mission, a limitless future.