All the 27th that rigorous weather endured: a stifling³ cold; the folk passing about like smoking chimneys; the wide hearth⁴ in the hall piled high with fuel; some of the spring birds that had already blundered north into our neighbourhood, besieging⁵ the windows of the house or trotting⁶ on the frozen turf like things distracted. About noon there came a blink of sunshine, showing a very pretty, wintry, frosty landscape of white hills and woods, with Crail’s lugger waiting for a wind under the Craig Head, and the smoke mounting straight into the air from every farm and cottage. With the coming of night, the haze⁷ closed in overhead; it fell dark and still and starless, and exceeding cold: a night the most unseasonable, fit for strange events.

 

Mrs. Henry withdrew, as was now her custom, very early. We had set ourselves of late to pass the evening with a game of cards; another mark that our visitor was wearying mightily⁸ of the life at Durrisdeer; and we had not been long at this when my old lord slipped from his place beside the fire, and was off without a word to seek the warmth of bed. The three thus left together had neither love nor courtesy to share; not one of us would have sat up one instant to oblige another; yet from the influence of custom, and as the cards had just been dealt, we continued the form of playing out the round. I should say we were late sitters; and though my lord had departed earlier than was his custom, twelve was already gone some time upon the clock, and the servants long ago in bed. Another thing I should say, that although I never saw the Master anyway

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