"The rain becomes heavier, and it is more chill and showery than before.
The mist, too, is driving north-east," said the Doctor. "The clouds are
cumbrous and broken, coiling, as they roll, into huge masses that will
ere long bring some of the dark Atlantic on their tails. Seest thou not,
Bartholomew, as though it were a grim pile of hills on the horizon?"
"I see as it might be a heavy wall of clouds gathering about us; and I
think the wind comes on more fitful and squally. These heavy lunges
betoken an angry and vicious humour in the air that will not be long in
bursting."
"We shall have it about our ears speedily. We must to work while it is
yet a-brewing below."
The dark pointed roofs and chimneys of the Lodge might be distinguished
in grotesque masses, changeless and unvarying, against the ever-shifting
darkness of the sky. A pale star sometimes looked out as if by stealth,
but was obscured almost ere its brightness could be developed. The wind,
as it rushed by, broke into short and irregular gusts, like scouts from
the main body, betokening its approach. The rain had ceased, save a few
hasty drops at intervals plashing heavily on the moat.
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